


Black Ink, Red Rose

by Bolshevikmuppet99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brainwashing, Dark Ginny Weasley, Death Eater Ginny Weasley, F/F, F/M, Insane Ginny Weasley, Psychological Torture, Radicalization, Self-Harm, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-05-20 18:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 44
Words: 244,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolshevikmuppet99/pseuds/Bolshevikmuppet99
Summary: Try as she might, Ginny can't make herself stop loving Tom. The knowledge of his true identity doesn't prevent the memories of how wonderful he was from consuming her thoughts. Even though it makes her a monster, she can't stop thinking about him. And if the opportunity to help him came up, well. She was always told to listen to her heart. Eventual Ginny/Bellatrix





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AN:I own none of this. Not the characters, not the settings, not the magic.
> 
> This story will be rather dark. Do not be expecting a happy ending.
> 
> TW/CW: Sexual violence, as well as regular murder, torture, major character death and the like.
> 
> Thanks to my incredible betas moomoogoat and geckoshan for the enormous assistance.
> 
> Please review/P.M. me.

"Tom?" Ginny whispered, "I'm-I'm scared."

The bathroom was quiet, the soft rhythmic tone of the dripping faucet the only noise breaking the silence.

She leaned against one of the sinks, her body shaking like a leaf, the diary clutched tightly under her arm.

Her reflection stared back at her from the cracked mirror, far paler than she'd been at the beginning of the year, her eyes carrying thick bags under them, the corner of her mouth twitching restlessly.

It had been the worst year of her life. It had also been the best year of her life.

All because she'd found Tom.

A part of her mind hated what she was doing. It screamed at her, shouting that Tom had enchanted her, that he was twisting her thoughts and making her obsessive, making her think she loved him.

He was making her obey him, that corner of her thoughts said, making her betray her family and friends for him, making her do things she didn't want to.

She knew that it was right. She also knew that she loved Tom, that he cared for her in ways that no one ever had before, that he wanted to hear her talk and listen to her problems.

She knew that Tom never wanted to hurt her, that Tom would never have forced her to do his bidding if she'd simply been better trained, if she'd been more useful, if she'd been smarter.

Tom never wanted to hurt her, she knew. He had no choice but to punish her when she was bad, when she'd tried to betray him after everything he'd done for her.

The mirror fogged over, just for a second.

When the fog vanished, Tom was there, standing in place of her reflection.

Her heart sped up at the sight of his face, her fingers stopping their trembling.

_'He's evil!'_  Her mind shrieked, _'don't listen to him, he's evil! He hurt Hermione and Colin, he wants to-'_

"Ginny," Tom said, smiling so sweetly at her from the glass, "what's wrong?"

She leaned closer to the mirror, tears welling up in her eyes, fierce joy filling her at the sound of his voice.

No one else would be able to hear or see him. He was hers and hers alone, just as she was his.

Tom wasn't looking as good as the first time he'd appeared to her. He seemed less solid than he had, his form looking like it would shatter into mist at any point.

_'Good! Let him die! Let him die and you can be free!'_

She shook her head frantically, tears flying off of her face as she dislodged those terrible, terrible thoughts.

She wouldn't be free without Tom. She'd be lost, floundering and helpless and alone.

She would rather die than lose Tom.

"I'm scared," she repeated, her voice almost too thick for the words to be heard. Tom understood her though. Tom always understood her, no matter what.

"You're the bravest girl I know," Tom said, "the bravest girl in the world. It's alright to be afraid. That's when true courage shines, when you're afraid but you do what you need to anyways."

"I'm just-I-isn't there another way?" She asked desperately, "a way that I don't-don't have to-to-"

Tom shook his head sadly, a suspicious wetness making his eyes shine.

"I'm sorry, love. There isn't. I told you, I've been growing weaker ever since you woke me up. I won't last much longer."

Her breath caught in her throat, the thought of Tom dying too large, too terrible for her to comprehend.

"I won't force you," He said, "You know that. I care too deeply for you to force you. But you need to choose."

"You-you said that there are rituals, other ways to do it?"

"They take too long," Tom said despondently, "and they're too advanced for you. You're a most brilliant witch, Ginny, but you don't know half enough dark magic to think of performing one of them, even with my help."

"Can't I take you to someone who does?" She asked, her fingers starting to shake again, "or-or help you another way?"

"Could you kill for me, Ginny?"

She nodded earnestly, ignoring the part of herself that began to weep.

She would definitely kill for Tom, if need be. Tom was the most important person in the world, the most important person possible. Anyone who stood in his way deserved to die.

"I didn't ask if you would be willing. I asked if you could. Would you be capable of beating a fully trained wizard in battle? Would you even be able to beat a fourth year in a duel?"

"Why-why would-"

"Because that's what I would need!" Tom exclaimed, the force of his outburst making her take a step back, "if you can't rebuild my body, you would need to be a soldier for me! You are simply not able to do that!"

"I-"

"Ginny," Tom said, looking as desperate as Ginny felt, "you are the most special witch in the entire world. But at this point, you cannot fight for me, and you can't make a body for me. If you really do want to help me, like you said you did, you know what you have to do."

"I do want to help you," she whispered.

"If you truly did, you would help me. If you loved me the way I love you, you would help me."

She stared at him for a moment, her heart racing.

"Only one of us can live," he said, a tear making its way down his perfect face, "I wish it could be different. My sweet, brilliant girl, I wish you didn't have to make this decision. But you need to choose. You need to think about which of us is worth more, and you need to choose."

He raised a hand, transferring his attention to it.

Horror froze her heart, the sight of his almost see-through hand shocking her brain like a bucket of ice water.

"It's starting," He said, a slight tremor in his voice, "I'm fading. I don't have much time, Ginny. I won't choose for you. You need to do it yourself."

"My family-"she mumbled.

Tom frowned, his dismayed fear vanishing for an instant.

"Of all the reasons to hesitate," he said sharply, "the feelings of a brood of muggle loving blood traitors should not be among them."

She winced, hurt more by the tone of voice than the contents.

She'd been upset, the first few times Tom had spoken badly about her family. It still hurt, but not that much. Not after he'd shown her the truth.

"Have I not shown my love and care in far greater ways than them, than the father who wanted another son, who wished he could spend all his time with Muggle toys? Have I not been better than a mother who never had time for you? Are the feelings of brothers too old to know you more important than mine or yours? What of Percy, too power hungry to even notice that his sister was upset? What of the twins, unable to put aside their immaturity for long enough to simply treat you as human? Am I truly worse than Ron, Ron who would rather the great Harry Potter shared his name than you?"

"No," she whispered, "you're-you're better than them."

_'He's not! They love you, he's just using you, he's worse, he's evil, stop! Don't listen to him, don't-"_

She scratched at her arm enough to draw blood, enough to derail that train of thought.

"The only people whose feelings matter in this," Tom said, "are you and I. Make up your mind, Ginny."

She ignored the hungry look on his face, ignored the way he was setting his chin.

_'Run,'_  the voice in the back of her mind said,  _'if you don't give in, he'll take control. Run, Ginny. Run and get help before he even realizes you're gone. Leave the diary and run!'_

She scratched again, the pain cutting through her and bringing her concentration back.

"I just-will it hurt?"

"Not at all," Tom said, giving her a look so full of love that her insides began to flutter, "it won't hurt at all. And I'll be right here with you."

She hesitated, just for a moment.

"I'll never forget you, Ginny. You'll be remembered for a thousand years as the bravest, most special and unique witch to ever have lived."

With tears running down her face, Ginny nodded.

"I'll do it."

Tom smiled, and she knew that she'd made the right decision.

* * *

Ginny woke up with a start to the jarring sensation of something prodding her.

"Please, Ginny, don't be dead, don't be-"

She gasped, sitting bolt upright and staring at Harry in the gloom.

"Ha-Harry? What-how-"

"It was this diary," Harry said, holding up Tom's diary, "it was possessing you, but I managed to destroy it."

The diary drew her eye, the terrible blackened and burnt hole through the centre filling her with dread.

Harry put his arm around her as she started sobbing.

"It's ok, Ginny," he murmured, "its ok."

She wanted to shout, wanted to launch herself at him and claw his eyes out.

"He's gone," Harry said softly, "he can't hurt you."

She could feel it, the absence of Tom. The tears running down her face felt like acid, the terrible empty pit in her heart welling up and spreading poisonous agony through her body.

Tom was gone. She would never speak to him again, would never see his comforting script appear on a page.

Harry had saved her. Harry had killed Tom.

"He can't hurt you," Harry repeated, "not anymore."

_'I was meant to die,'_  she wanted to scream,  _'I was meant to save him! You killed him, you killed Tom, I was meant to die!'_

"Come on," Harry said, getting to his feet and pulling her up, "let's get out of here."

She allowed him to lift her, making no effort to stop her crying, letting her body shake with her hysterical tears.

_'You were meant to save me!'_  She wanted to scream, _'you're Harry Potter, you were meant to save me! Why couldn't you have saved me before I loved him?'_


	2. Second Year, Part one

"Ginny? Could you come downstairs please?"

She turned over slowly in her bed, her mother's call spurring her into movement.

"Ginny?"

"Coming," she yelled, hating the flash of loathing that had run through her body at the sound of her mother's voice.

It had been three weeks since Harry had brought her out of the Chamber of Secrets.

Three painful, empty, Tomless weeks.

She'd spent much of that time in her bed, keeping a book next to her so that she could pretend to have been reading when her parents walked in.

Most of her waking hours, however, were spent thinking of Tom.

Thinking of Voldemort.

She hadn't been able to push herself to call him Voldemort, not really. Not in her head. He was Tom. She couldn't reconcile the brilliant, wonderful, loving, _'monstrous,'_  kind, caring, _'evil,'_  special boy she had come to know with the image of the monster her older brothers had always scared her with.

She had somehow managed to keep it a secret from them, managed to not let them know that she'd agreed to sacrifice herself for Tom.

She couldn't bear to tell them, couldn't push herself to see the pain twist her mother's face.

And she knew that even if she did somehow tell them, none of them would possibly understand.

They couldn't understand how incredible Tom had been. How much he'd shown, again and again and again, that he'd truly loved her, far more than everyone else.

Far more than everyone who just pretended to care.

Tom, she'd decided, was like a fallen angel. _'Yes, like Lucifer.'_  A mysterious being, one that you had to actually meet to understand.

But they said that Tom was Voldemort.

They said that Tom was the memory of the man who would become a nightmare, a man who would terrorize Britain, a man whose name most people still feared to speak.

_'Stupid little girl, you knew he was terrible!'_

She had known that Tom was terrible. She hadn't accepted it, because terrible though he was, he was wonderful too.

That was the problem. He was wonderful, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She'd lain awake at night, writing his name over and over onto parchment that she'd then torn up into thousands of little confetti pieces.

She'd stared at the ceiling for hours, just remembering how he'd spoken, how he'd listened, how he'd cared.

She'd stared into the bathroom mirror for hours on end, hoping and wishing that the glass would fog over and that he'd be there.

She wished that he'd appear and fill the terrible gaping hole within her.

 _'Why can't I stop loving him?'_  She wondered, tears welling up in her eyes,  _'after everything, why can't I stop thinking about him?'_

Terrible as Tom was, terrible as Voldemort was, she needed him.

She felt it in every cell of her body, his absence pressing in on her and threatening to suffocate her.

She needed him in a way that she couldn't even explain, that she couldn't understand even in the privacy of her mind.

She needed him, and he was gone.

He was gone, because Harry had killed him.

Over the last three weeks, she'd come to a terrifying realization, one which had shaken her to the very core.

Harry had rescued her, but he'd been too late.

She hoped that she was wrong. She hoped with every fibre of her being that as time passed her need for Tom would vanish.

She hoped that with time her love for Tom would disappear.

She hoped, but a part of her was sure that it was nothing more than a hope.

"Ginny? What's keeping you?"

She shook herself out of her reverie, blinking furiously and turning away from the wall.

"Sorry, mum. I'm on the way."

She walked down the stairs carefully, forcing her mind away from the thoughts of Tom that always lurked under the surface.

"Come on, Ginny," her mother hissed as she reached the landing, "We've got a visitor! Professor Dumbledore's come to see you!"

She stopped, dread and rage filling her as her mother walked back into the kitchen.

Dumbledore. Tom had detested Dumbledore. He'd told Ginny a little bit about why, told her how Dumbledore had always hated him in school, had always singled him out and had tried to turn the then headmaster against him.

 _'Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared,'_  frantically shouted the rebellious voice within her,  _'of course Tom hated him! Dumbledore's good! He's good!'_

She walked into the kitchen, heart pounding.

Dumbledore made an incongruous sight, sitting with his flamboyant purple robes at their kitchen table, sipping from a teacup with her father next to him. "Ah, Miss Weasley," He said, smiling at her, "I was hoping that I could steal a few minutes of your time?"

"Of course, Headmaster," she said, somehow managing to keep from stuttering.

She sat down in the empty chair facing Dumbledore, her mother reaching over and giving her arm a comforting squeeze.

"You look to be doing well, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, "I'm very pleased to see that."

"Thank you," she said, "it's been...relaxing, being home."

"I'm sure it is. I wanted to ask, how have you been recovering?"

Ginny clenched her fist under the table, hiding her trembling fingers from view.

"It's going well," she said quickly, "I think."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, "the company of family is a wonderful healing tool. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about the diary's effects?"

Her pounding heart sped up, its thumping becoming so loud she half expected her mother to comment on it.

 _'He knows,_ ' she thought desperately, _'he knows I'm still thinking about Tom, he wants to catch me out, he wants to lock me away.'_

"Of course." She said, trying to make her smile seem natural.

Dumbledore beamed, his eyes full of joy.

"Now, I could not examine the diary to my full satisfaction. Mr Potter's destruction of it was, thankfully, total, but it does mean that the enchantments of it were ruined beyond my ability to explore. Miss Weasley, would you say that the diary induced feelings of obsession?"

Her mother's hand moved down her arm, curling around her fingers.

A part of her wanted to wrench her hand away, to tear herself from the woman who'd never shown as much love for her as she deserved.

"Definitely," she said, staring Dumbledore in the eye, "it was like...whenever I wasn't writing in it, I was thinking about it."

Her mother's hand squeezed around hers, shaking as she gripped Ginny tightly.

_'It's not you who should be upset! I should be upset, it was me, not you! You didn't notice!'_

"You don't feel this obsession anymore, do you?" Her father asked, his face paling, "It's gone, right?"

"I don't," she hurriedly said, shaking her head, "I don't."

She heard her mother muttering something, some words of thanks.

Dumbledore just continued to look at her with that small smile on his face.

"I believe that whatever connection had been made," he said, "when Harry destroyed the diary, the connection was eradicated."

_'It wasn't! It wasn't! Please, I can't stop thinking about him, please-'_

_'If he finds out, he won't just ignore it,'_  she thought, shutting down the terrified internal cry,  _'he wouldn't let me go back to Hogwarts, not if I could still be dangerous. It's gone, it'll just take time for it to totally be gone. It'll just take time.'_

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said, making Ginny and her parents wince, "wanted it so that whoever his diary was possessing would feel unable to simply abandon the diary."

Ginny shivered, remembering Tom's reaction when she'd done just that.

 _'He was right to be angry,_ ' a small voice whispered at the back of her mind, _'you deserved it.'_

"He's really still alive," her father asked with a tremor in his voice, "You-Know-Who?"

"Unfortunately so. Thankfully, Harry prevented the diary from gaining physical form. If it had, it undoubtedly would have gone in search of Voldemort and restored him to power."

Dumbledore focused on Ginny again, his piercing eyes all but making her flinch.

"Has there been any further lapses in your memory, since the diary was destroyed?"

She shook her head mutely.

"And have you been suffering from nightmares?"

"She has," her mother said immediately, "Not so bad this last week, but she was having them every night in the beginning."

"Only to be expected," Dumbledore said, "after going through such a traumatic and horrifying experience. I must say, Miss Weasley, you've comported yourself as a true Gryffindor."

A memory of Tom's voice flashed through her mind at that.

_'You're the bravest girl in the entire world, Ginny.'_

Something comfortingly warm filled her belly, a natural smile forming on her lips.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said.

"If I may, I would like to check you. To ensure that none of the enchantments on the diary are still affecting you."

Her heart stopped, anxious terror filling her.

"It won't hurt," Dumbledore continued, "in fact, I very much doubt that you will feel anything. Perhaps a slight tickling sensation."

_'I can't say no. I can't.'_

"Of-of course," she said.

"What are you checking for, exactly?" her father asked.

"As I said, the diary's destruction left me unable to closely examine the spells on it. I'm simply going to check for any mind altering charms, or the remnants of such."

"Do you really think there still might be?" Her mother asked, tightening her fingers around Ginny's.

_'Stop acting like you care! You didn't even notice that I barely wrote you any letters, you-'_

_'She did! She asked Percy and the twins to check up on me, she noticed! Tom was full of lies, she cares, she loves me!'_

"Any of these types of magic leave a mark," Dumbledore said, "I doubt that any of the enchantments are still actually present, but it would be most foolish not to check."

"That's for sure," her father said, smiling weakly.

Dumbledore raised his wand and began twirling it, the tip glowing brightly.

Something strange flashed in Ginny's mind, a sensation as though her thoughts were twisting around each other.

It felt, in fact, like her mind was a deep pool of water, and something had dived deep into her thoughts.

Something enormous and almost unknowable, feeling somehow cold and slimy as it disappeared into the recesses of her mind.

The glow vanished from the end of Dumbledore's wand as he lowered it, smiling widely.

"No enchantments still present," he announced, "I believe the best thing now is for Ginevra to be with her family and friends. An outpouring of love has always been the most powerful of magic, especially when dealing with something like this. Voldemort never understood love, and he certainly never understood the extent to which love could undo his evil spells."

_'He understands love. He loved me. He loves me!'_

"If possible," Dumbledore continued, "you should talk about it, Miss Weasley. Expressing your feelings can work wonders to deal with trauma. Speak to your family and friends, people you trust and love."

"We will," her mother said, releasing Ginny's hand and putting her arm around her instead.

"Of that I am certain. Now, Miss Weasley, you have, of course, been accepted into your second year at Hogwarts. If you find that you're having any difficulties with the curriculum due to your troubles last year, please speak to Professor McGonagall. She will arrange remedial lessons for you if necessary."

_'Tom would never have thought I'd need something like that. Tom said I was smart, and-'_

_'He was just saying that to make you like him!'_

"I will," she said, "I've been reading over last year's textbooks though, I think I'll be ok.""I hope you shall. Any issues you find, whether it be with schoolwork or with the other students, please raise them with Professor McGonagall or me."

She nodded.

Dumbledore rose, shaking her parents' hands and brushing off their thanks.

"I will see you on September first, Miss Weasley. I hope that the rest of your vacation is restful and healing."

_'Me too.'_

"I'm sure once your brothers return for their vacation you'll be kept busy," Dumbledore said, "so I would advise that any studying you plan on doing should be completed before then. Until September first, Miss Weasley. Molly, Arthur."

With a final nod, Dumbledore walked out of the Burrow.

"Thank goodness," her mother said, falling back into a chair, "I was so worried."

"Nothing to worry about," her father said, smiling at her and her mother, "it's over."

_'I hope it actually is.'_

In the back of her mind, however, it felt like something was bursting free in her thoughts.

* * *

She stared at the piece of parchment before her, the sounds of the wireless filtering in from downstairs as her mother did some housework.

She began to cry softly, covering her mouth with her hand to stop the sound escaping.

 _'Why isn't it getting better?'_  She thought,  _'it's meant to be getting better, Dumbledore said that it would get better!'_

She and her parents had followed the Headmaster's advice. They'd spoken about her year for hours, talked about the Diary. About Tom.

Try as she might, she hadn't been able to tell them everything. She hadn't managed to explain how wonderful Tom had been, how caring and thoughtful and brilliant and loving and kind he'd been.

She'd tried, but they just couldn't understand.

She hadn't been able to tell them how it had been at first, when she felt alone in her room and nobody seemed interested in her except Tom.

She hadn't been able to make herself tell them about Lockhart.

She certainly hadn't managed to tell them about how she was currently feeling.

She could imagine what they'd look like if she did tell them, the shocked and horrified looks they'd exchange if she told them that even after everything, she just couldn't stop loving and needing Tom.

She looked at the parchment again, her tears making the words blur before her eyes.

She'd covered the empty paper with the scrawl of her untidy handwriting.

Half of the writing was simply Tom's name, repeated over and over again, the ink somehow shouting forth her desperation and despair.

The other half was messages to him, as if she thought he could still read them and respond.

 _'It's not getting better,'_  she thought as she began to shred the parchment with her fingers, tearing it into tiny strips and then ripping those again,  _'it's only getting worse. Why can't I stop thinking about him?'_

* * *

It was less than an hour after her brothers had been picked up from King's Cross when there was a series of resounding knocks on her bedroom door.

She'd already greeted her brothers, hugged them and made a little small talk before retreating to her room.

She quickly sat up, picking up her book and making it look like she'd been reading.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened, letting Fred and George walk through it, uncharacteristically solemn expressions adorning their faces.

"Um, hi," she said.

"We let you down," Fred said without preamble, "we should have realized something was up."

"It's ok," she said.

"It's not," George said, "it really isn't. We should have done better."

"You can't blame yourselves," she said, "It's not your fault."

Fred rolled his eyes. "We didn't say it was our fault. This is just us apologizing for not giving you the attention we should have."

"Yeah. It's Malfoy's fault for giving you that thing in the first place. But we should have seen it before it got too far."

"You don't-"

"Please, Gin," Fred said, "it's hard enough for us to be all serious like this. Just-we're sorry. And we want to make sure that you know that you're not alone at Hogwarts. That even though we don't always show it, we can take things seriously. And that we really do care about you."

"What he said," George said, nodding.

"Anything we can help you with," Fred said, moving close and squeezing her in a tight hug, followed by George, "you just let us know."

"Thanks," she said, a thick lump in her throat all but blocking her words, "thanks, guys."

* * *

The hot desert sun beat down on her, the damp cloth around the back of her neck beginning to dry up again.

The rest of the family was still inside the pyramid with Bill's co-worker.

They'd been inside for maybe a half hour before the close confines and gloom got to her, sending her heart racing and filling her mind with her last memories of Tom.

Bill had guided her out, once she shakily asked to get back to the sunlight. "How are you feeling now?"

She lowered the water bottle, smiling at the almost paternal concern in Bill's voice, ruthlessly crushing the voice that shouted how he hadn't cared last year.

"Better. Sorry, it was just-so-so-"

"Don't worry about it," Bill said, "It takes people like that all the time. And that's people who haven't been through what you have."

Bill took the water bottle from her hand, tapping it with his wand and refilling it. He looked at her, his eyes softening. "How are you feeling about all that? Honestly."

_'Tell him the truth! Tell him you can't stop thinking about Tom, you can't stop loving him! Tell him!'_

_'He'll hate me. He knows Tom is Voldemort, he'll hate me if I tell him.'_

"It's getting better," she said, hoping against hope that he wouldn't see through her, that he wouldn't notice the slightly higher pitch that had taken her voice, "It's tough, to think that I was-that I was hurting people. That I couldn't stop myself. But it's getting better."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving hers for a second.

"You know that you can talk to me whenever you want, right? About anything."

_'Yeah, right. It only takes an owl how long to reach you?'_

She nodded, her smile growing fixed.

"I mean it. I know that-that we've never been as close as we should have, what with my being out of the house most of your life. But you're my sister."

He hugged her, his sudden movement shocking her into stillness.

"I love you, Ginny," He said, "I mean it, anything I can help with, anything I can do, you just let me know. And if you want, I can Fire-Call the Gryffindor common room. You just let me know when."

The earnest care in his voice tugged at her heartstrings, making tears well up in her eyes.

For a moment, she thought about telling him everything. Telling him how she still thought about Tom almost as much as when she had the diary, how she was terrified that Dumbledore was wrong and that there were still enchantments on her from the diary.

She thought about telling him how she felt Tom's absence as strongly as she had ever felt his presence, how she almost felt like she was a limb short. She wanted to talk about the desperate need that filled her, the need to see Tom's writing, to hear his voice.

And then she heard the sounds of the rest of her family approaching the pyramid's exit, and the moment passed.

* * *

"Ginny? Mind if I have a word?"

She finished placing the last of the clothes she'd need into her trunk before straightening up and turning to face Percy.

She hated having to pack two days early, hated the terrible reminder that she'd be leaving the safety of her home, her retreat from the world, and returning to Hogwarts.

Without Tom.

Her parents had made it sound like they'd be going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron simply for an added bit of holiday before going back to school, but she knew better.

She'd overheard them, heard them talking about how Harry Potter was staying at the Leaky Cauldron, how it would be best if they could be around there, if they could keep an eye on him.

Of course, everything in the world had to revolve around Harry Potter. Merlin forbid she actually got to relax at home a little longer before facing the crowds of people she almost certainly knew.

She couldn't have that extra time, not when the great Harry Potter might be in danger.

 _'Serves him right,'_  she thought uncharitably,  _'bastard. He should have-'_

_'Are you out of your mind? He saved your life!'_

"Ginny?"

She blinked, snapping out of that train of thought.

"Sorry," she said, "just spacing out."

Percy nodded, idly fingering the Head Boy badge pinned to his robes.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding uncomfortable at the admittance, "I wasn't as attentive as I should have been last year. I became too caught up in my schoolwork, and prefect duties, and..." he trailed off, the tips of his ears going pink, "other things." He muttered.

He coughed into a fist before shaking his head slightly and continuing.

"I should have been more present," he said, "maybe I'd have noticed something. I'm sorry, Ginny."

"You don't need to be," she said, her own cheeks reddening, "it's not your fault."

"It is," he insisted, "not in full, but I could have seen something if only I'd been paying attention. I should have been paying attention. Family always comes first."

She felt it building, the torrent of tears that threatened to explode from her.

"I-I just want you to know," he said, "that if there's anything I can do, anything I can help with, you only need to let me know. And even if I'm busy with something, you tell me and I'll interrupt it. You're more important than anything else I have going on, Ginny."

 _'I miss him,'_  she wanted to shout, _'I miss him, I need him, I don't want to go back without him. He's Voldemort, and he was going to kill me, but I still love him. I can't even tell you because I know you'll hate me for it! Help me!'_

"And if you're finding anything difficult," he continued, blissfully unaware of her thoughts, "with schoolwork or the like, I'd be more than glad to assist."

"Thanks, Percy," she whispered, looking down and rubbing at her eyes.

He hugged her tight, pulling her thin frame against his wiry body.

"It'll be alright," he said, "you'll see, it'll all be ok."

_'It won't, Dumbledore was wrong, it's not going away, it's only getting worse! It's getting worse!'_

* * *

Over the course of the entire holiday, each of her brothers had taken her aside and had some variation of the same conversation with her. They all told her how much they loved and cared for her, how they'd help her out with anything she needed, how brave and strong she was.

Even Ron had stumbled his way through an emotional conversation with her.

It was only on the last day of her holiday that she found out why they'd all done it.

Her family had moved to the Leaky Cauldron for the end of the break, and she was standing outside her parents' room, about to knock, when she heard her name mentioned.

"I think Ginny's doing better," her father said, "not like she was beforehand, but I think she's getting there."

"I don't know, Arthur," her mother said slowly, "she's certainly having fewer nightmares, but she's still spending so much time alone. I don't like it."

She inhaled sharply, pulling away from the door and shaking her head.

So her mother thought she wasn't having as many nightmares?

She was. She still woke up every night with her heart racing, half-formed thoughts and images of Tom filling her mind.

She was still having the nightmares. She'd just learned not to wake up with a cry.

Ignoring the growing feeling of unease, she pressed her ear to the door.

"I know, dear. But it's only to be expected. Professor Dumbledore said that You-Know-Who was playing with her emotions. It's only natural that it should take her some time to get past that."

"But how long? She's spoken to us about it, but I always get the feeling that she's holding something back. She's sitting in her room half the day with her nose buried in a book, and that's just not like her. It's not moving on as quickly as it should."

"What do you want me to do, Molly? What should I do about it? We can't keep forcing her to talk, not if she doesn't feel ready and willing to. She knows that we're here for her, we made sure that all of the boys spoke to her, and-"

A rushing sound filled her ears as she snatched her head away, disappointment sitting heavy in her chest as her father's words hit her.

_'So that's why they all did it. Not because they actually care, but because mum and dad badgered them into it. That's why. That's all.'_

_'They just wanted to make sure they all showed their support! It's not-'_

She shook her head, brushing away that voice and putting her ear against the door again.

"All we can do," her father continued, "is make sure that she knows we're all here for her. She needs to move on, and going back to school should help with that. The boys will keep an eye on her, and Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall will keep us in the loop. There's nothing else we can do, Molly."

Ginny heard what sounded like a sob, followed by her mother's teary voice.

"I just want to help her, my little girl. I just want her to-to forget about it-"

"You can't make that happen," her father said firmly, "none of us can. It takes time for the effects of this sort of thing to fade. We just need to give her space."

"He was in her head," her mother cried, "I can't stop thinking about that, what that monster did."

She jerked her head away as if the door had suddenly burned red-hot.

Tears formed in her eyes, her hand rushing automatically to wipe at them as she silently crept away.

She could only imagine the pain in her mother's voice if she were to explain how much Tom still consumed her thoughts.

* * *

That night, as she finished packing her bags and lay down on her bed, the anxious fear began to gnaw at her as her mind turned toward the journey she would take the following day.

She scratched at her arm restlessly, bloody beads appearing where her nails tore the skin, as she thought of returning to Hogwarts.

Returning to Hogwarts without Tom.


	3. Second Year, Part two

After a tearful goodbye from her parents at the station, Ginny boarded the Hogwarts Express and began searching for a compartment.

The first few rooms she passed were occupied, filled with older students who looked at her with cool, assessing eyes as she peeked into their stalls.

Based on what she'd heard from Fred and George, no one knew exactly what had happened with her and Tom and the Chamber, but the Hogwarts rumour mill was legendary. They might not know, precisely, that she had been possessed by Voldemort ' _Tom'_ but they knew that she had been involved, somehow, and that was enough to make them eye her with suspicion.

Enough to make their gazes burn into her skin.

It was clear that there had been some rumours about her. Some of the groups of students streaming down the train paused as they passed her, looking at her for a moment before continuing.

She was about a third of the way down the hallway before the train began to move, departing the station with a lurch.

Her heavy trunk pulled her off balance and she fell, knocking into the glass door to her left with a crash.

A moment after she regained her feet and began walking again, the door opened.

"Ginny? Did you want to come and sit with us?"

"Hi, Luna," she said, turning her head with a small sigh, "I just fell against the door, but-"

"If you and your friend want to come in," a petulant voice from within the compartment called, "then do it. Don't just leave the door open like an idiot."

' _Luna and her Ravenclaw friends. No thanks._ '

"Thanks, Luna," she said, "but I was planning on finding my roommates, and…"

Luna just nodded calmly and blinked her too-wide eyes as Ginny trailed off.

"Enjoy," she said, walking back in and closing the door behind her.

Ginny stood there for a moment before walking on again, sidestepping a giggling group of first years.

"Ginny!"

She turned at the muffled sound of her name, and a compartment door swung open.

"Ginny, dear," Priscilla cried, giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek, "do come in!"

She rolled her eyes, following her roommate into the room.

She knew before even entering that if Priscilla was there, then Jasmine certainly was as well, and probably Evelyn too.

She was right, although it hadn't taken much to figure it out. Her roommates, particularly Jasmine and Priscilla, seemed incapable of doing anything without each other's company, and Evelyn had neatly fallen in with them. Jasmine and Priscilla Woodworth had known each other since well before Hogwarts, of course. They were cousins, and from what they'd told Ginny and Evelyn, their houses were within a kilometre of one another, and they'd practically grown up together.

She exchanged greetings with them all, before shoving her trunk into the overhead baggage bin and taking a seat.

"We were ever so excited to see the article about your family's trip," Jasmine said, gesturing to Priscilla, "it was your first time out of the country, wasn't it?"

"Actually, I went to Egypt two years ago also," she said, "it was just me and my parents then, though."

"Well," Jasmine said, "we were just telling Evelyn about our vacation. Our families took a trip together to the United States. Oh, it was so lovely."

"We went to Switzerland," Evelyn said, "did some skiing, of course, and visited some of father's friends, and we went to a marvellous party at the Swiss Minister's house."

As the other girls oohed and aahed, Ginny leaned back in her chair, somehow managing to keep a scowl off of her face.

They weren't bad girls, she had to admit. They weren't mean, or cruel, or unfriendly.

They just weren't the type of people she wanted to spend time with.

Jasmine and Priscilla were worse than Evelyn, by far. They were prissy, spoiled, rich bints, who, as far as Ginny could tell, had no greater ambition in life than doing exactly what their mothers had, which seemed to be simply marrying a wealthy, politically connected man and spending the rest of their time going to dinner parties and charity events.

They weren't interested in Quidditch, didn't like playing gobstones or exploding snap or any of the games her brothers had taught her.

But they weren't mean girls, at least, not intentionally.

Still, Ginny sometimes thought that the pitying way they would talk to her about money was far worse than if they'd been insulting and cruel.

She hadn't been surprised when the summer passed with no owls from any of them. She'd been a little bit hurt that Evelyn hadn't sent a letter, but hadn't expected one from Priscilla or Jasmine.

They were roommates and yearmates, and that was the extent of their relationship.

At the beginning of the year, she'd thought that she and Evelyn might make good friends. She'd been a bit wary of the McLaggen girl, after hearing Fred and George complaining about her brother, but Evelyn hadn't seemed so self-obsessed.

She'd found conversation with Evelyn to be far easier than with the other two. Even though Evelyn's family was also apparently wealthy, she didn't talk like she was a character from one of those romance novels Ginny's mother liked to read.

But that had been at the beginning of the year, before Ginny was spending almost all of her free time with Tom.

Once Tom became all that she needed, Ginny stopped hanging out with Evelyn, only talking to her when they happened to be together.

Evelyn had started spending more and more time with Priscilla and Jasmine, until she even adopted some of their mannerisms.

And it seemed like Ginny had lost what could have been a great friendship.

She listened with half an ear as they recounted their holidays, nodding and making small, one or two word comments when it seemed appropriate.

Mostly, she let her mind wander as they spoke until the conversation turned to the events of the previous year.

The sweets trolley had already passed by then, and Priscilla sat primly, her back ramrod straight, a small napkin held under the pumpkin pastry in her hand.

"Father was very surprised that the Prophet didn't report on all the attacks," She said, "he thinks that the Board of Governors must have kept it hushed up."

"I'm sure they did," Evelyn said, "It doesn't look too good for the school, does it? Even though it's all over now."

"I hope it's all over," Jasmine said, "they didn't even tell us who exactly what was behind it all."

She raised a hand to her lips, turning to Ginny.

"I'm so sorry," Jasmine said, "we must seem so insensitive, talking about that dreadful experience."

"It's fine," Ginny said brusquely, "Can't expect everyone to pretend nothing happened, can I?"

' _Shut up about it, all right? Just shut up! You don't know anything, just stop talking!'_

"What did actually happen?" Priscilla asked, "No one explained what had happened to you, and all the stories going around seemed rather far-fetched."

"Yeah, Ginny," Evelyn said, "what really happened? If you don't mind talking about it, that is."

' _It'll be good to tell them, everyone says you need to talk about it-'_

' _What, so they can run to McGonagall and tell her? So they can keep giving my parents reports? McGonagall probably asked them to ask me, they don't really care, they just want a juicy story!'_

' _They're your friends, of course-'_

' _They're not my friends. They're not, and they don't even pretend to be.'_

"I'd rather not talk about that,' she said, looking down at the floor and fighting the urge to bite at her fingernails.

"Of course, dear," Priscilla said.

' _We're the same damn age! Stop talking to me like I'm a bloody child!'_

' _That's just how she is, she can't help it.'_

' _I wish I'd have asked Tom to set the basilisk on her, show her what it's like to be weak and scared!'_

As the thought crossed her mind, a surge of hot nausea flashed through and her left arm began to rise to scratch at her right.

She lifted it further, making as if she had been adjusting her hair.

' _I can't do this,'_ she thought desperately, ' _I'm not gonna manage another year of this, why did Malfoy have to give me that diary? Why?'_

"Just going to the loo," she said, standing up, "be back in a bit."

Evelyn nodded to her as she walked out the door, the conversation already starting up again.

The bathrooms were all the way in the back of the train. She took the stall furthest away from the nearest occupied one, and sat on the closed toilet seat, staring at the door.

' _If I had Tom, I'd be able to do this, but I don't have him, I can't have him, Harry Potter killed him, I can't do this, I-'_

' _If Harry hadn't killed him, I'd be dead! Tom would have walked away and never thought about me again, and I'd be dead!'_

' _I agreed! After everything Tom did-'_

' _He only did all of that so that I would agree! He wasn't really interested, he didn't really care, he just needed me! I can do this, it's just the remnants of the enchantments making me think about him-'_

' _He could have taken me by force! He didn't! He-'_

' _He lied. He lied about everything. He made me hurt people, and he didn't-'_

She jammed her hand into her mouth as the tears filled her eyes, let her skin stifle the sounds of her sobs.

' _I think Dumbledore was wrong. The enchantments aren't all gone. I should be able to stop thinking about him, I should be able to talk about it, but I'm too weak, I'm too weak without him, and-'_

' _Then I should just tell Dumbledore. Damnit, I need help-'_

' _I can't. I can't, I can't tell him, I can't tell him-'_

' _Why not?'_

She couldn't articulate it, even to herself. For some reason, the idea of simply going to Headmaster Dumbledore and saying that she still thought about Tom all of the time terrified her, making her belly tremble with dread.

She hadn't been thinking about Tom as much as when she had the diary, true. Then, barely ten minutes would pass before she felt the bone-deep need to write in it, to see his messages to her appear and to feel the surge of warmth he gave her.

Even when she hadn't been thinking about him, she still had felt that urge in the back of her mind, like a compulsive itch that she simply couldn't scratch without his help.

Since Harry had destroyed the diary, however, when she wasn't thinking about him, the need wasn't there.

But as soon as she remembered what she was missing, as soon as she realized what she had lost, the urge was there just as strongly as when she'd had the diary.

The worst was when she forgot what had happened, when she found herself thinking about telling Tom something, or when she absentmindedly reached for a book she no longer had.

Then it felt just as horrifically painful as when she'd first woken up in the Chamber of Secrets.

She heard someone flush the toilet, and she added her other hand to the one blocking her mouth.

The tears felt warm against her face, her body shaking with silent weeping.

' _I can't do this, I can't do this, I need him, I need him, I need to talk to him.'_

She sat there for close to a quarter of an hour before she felt the throe pass.

Before leaving the bathroom, she washed her face, making sure she didn't look as though she'd been crying.

' _I don't think I could handle Jasmine if she saw me like that, she'd make me lose it for sure.'_

As she walked back into the hallway, the train began to slow.

She glanced at her watch, her brow furrowing.

They certainly couldn't be there yet, not unless they finished the journey more than two hours shorter than expected.

Nevertheless, the train carried on slowing down, coming to a stop with a mighty lurch that almost threw her off her feet.

And all the lights went out, sudden, total darkness descending on the Hogwarts Express.

She didn't think about drawing her wand and casting a light spell. Panic clouded her mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins and sending her rushing straight to the nearest compartment.

The door opened the instant before she arrived and she flew through, tripping on someone as she entered and landing on the floor with a sharp jolt through her elbow.

"OW!"

"Who's that?"

"It's-its Ginny," she said, gripping someone's hand in the darkness and pulling herself to her feet, "who's-"

"Ginny?"

"Ron?"

"And me," Hermione said, "And Harry and Neville. Why're we stopping?"

"I don't know," she said as she inched toward where Ron's voice had sounded from, anxiety still twisting her innards like snakes, "I was just in the bathroom and the lights went out,"

"I'm here," Harry said, "sit over-"

"Quiet!"

Her head shot around at the hoarse, adult voice. Before she even managed to vocalize a question, light shone from the corner of the compartment.

A man appeared, his face lit up by the ghostly flames he seemed to be holding in his hands. He looked old, his face lined and wearied, his robes tattered and worn.

"I'm going to go see what's happening," he said as he rose, "you all stay here."

The glass door slid open before he even reached it.

A blast of midwinter air shot into the compartment and Ginny could have sworn she heard the crackle of ice spreading on the windows.

Something stood in the doorway. A towering, dark cloak, the top of it far above the lintel. It extended one of the sleeves of its robe, and a rotten, corpselike hand came forth.

And Ginny's mind was flooded with memories of the previous year.

' _Her head was bent over the desk, her hand already tired from all of the writing. 'At least he just wants me to write the same thing for each one,' she thought, ignoring Lockhart's speech as he paced behind her, 'otherwise it'd be a nightmare!'_

_Her back straightened in a flash as she felt the hand on the back of her neck._

" _Don't worry," Lockhart said with a small laugh, "I was just admiring your hair. It's really quite beautiful."_

_But she was worried, whatever he said. The touch had been light, just a finger trailing across her nape, but it had felt wrong, somehow._

_She felt his hand running through her hair and her heart began to pound, her breath caught in her throat._

" _Pro-professor-" she whispered, unable to speak properly._

" _Such lovely hair. Do you know, when I was your age, I looked quite a mess?"_

_He strode into view, smiling widely at her._

_His smile did not ease her nerves. It looked too shark-like, his teeth too bright._

' _I need to get out of here,' she thought desperately, 'this isn't right.'_

" _Relax, Miss Weasley," Lockhart said, taking a step toward her, "I don't bite."_

_She pulled back slightly as he moved closer, her hands beginning to shake._

She heard the man saying something to the creature, saw him gesturing around the compartment with his handful of light. Dimly, she was aware of Neville crying, of her body trembling.

She couldn't tear her thoughts away from her memory.

' _Lockhart put a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down slightly. "You'd think I was some sort of monster, from the way you're reacting," he said, "I'm sorry for frightening you. Why, your heart must be doing a hundred beats a minute."_

_His hand shot to the centre of her chest, and she sat there, paralyzed with an enormous, confused fear._

' _Help me," she thought, 'Tom, Tom, please, please help me, please.'_

" _I'm dreadfully sorry," he repeated, "I would never do anything to hurt such a pretty girl like you."_

_His hand moved away, but as it moved, she felt it squeezing her left breast, just for a fraction of an instant._

_His smiling face blurred before her eyes as the tears began to form._

" _Professor," she said, "wh-what-"_

" _Shh," he whispered, a finger pressing up against her mouth, "It's all right."_

" _I think I need to go," she said, standing up, "I-"_

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_

She closed her eyes, trying to force the memory to vanish, wildly casting her mind around.

She heard the man shouting something, something about Sirius Black.

' _She fell back onto the floor of Lockhart's office, the grinning photographs seeming to mock her._

' _TOM, HELP ME! PLEASE, TOM! PLEASE!'_

_Lockhart appeared in her vision, smiling down at her as he knelt beside her._

" _Such a pretty girl," he whispered, his tongue shimmering out and sliding across his lips._

_He put his hands on her chest, gripping handfuls of her robes.'_

The man shot something blindingly bright from his wand.

Immediately, the room grew warm again, the terrible creature gliding away.

The memory still played on in her head.

' _And then she felt it. The blissful, incredible feeling of Tom's presence in her head._

' _Let me,' he snarled in her thoughts, and she didn't have to debate it._

' _Yes,' she thought._

_As Lockhart began to pull her robes open, Tom took control._

_The body-bind vanished, Tom's thought of 'Finite Incantatem,' ringing through her mind with incredible strength._

_Tom shot her hand out, drawing her wand and slashing it through the air far faster than she'd ever have been capable of._

_Lockhart was thrown back, crashing into the wall and sending some of his photographs to the floor along with his wand._

_She watched through her eyes as Tom made her body stand, flicking her wand at the door and portraits._

_The door was lit up with a bluish penumbra for a second, and all the portraits and photographs went absolutely still."_

She heard the commotion in the compartment as the lights came back on, heard Ron and Hermione shouting something about Harry.

She ignored them, focusing on the memory.

The first part of it had been more than terrible, but it ended on a high note. She was suddenly grateful for the monster that has allowed her to relive it.

" _Lockhart raised his hands in clear surrender, his face pale and scared._

" _You don't need to tell anyone," he said, "I can-I can give you the best grades of your year, I can pay you, I-"_

_Tom flicked her wand, and Lockhart smashed back into the wall._

_Tom stepped closer to Lockhart's stirring form. Her leg kicked out, hitting the prone fool in the ribs and making him turn onto his back._

' _My magical abilities are limited while I am controlling your body,' Tom thought to her, 'if I could, I would make him feel such pain as he would never forget. But to do so would greatly endanger me. The choice is yours, Ginny.'_

' _Don't put yourself at risk,' she thought back immediately, 'Don't!'_

' _As you wish.'_

_Her body knelt by Lockhart's side, Tom stretching out her hand and gripping the man's throat tightly enough that her nails drew beads of blood._

_The thick vein in Lockhart's neck thundered, barely an inch away from her fingers._

' _I could tear his throat out,' Tom thought, 'but we wouldn't be able to cover up his death. Suspicion would fall on you.'_

' _Don't,' she thought, 'just-just make sure he won't try anything like that again.'_

" _Listen to me," Tom said, her voice coming out harder and colder than it ever had before, "you worthless embarrassment of a wizard. If you ever raise your wand to me again, I will castrate you and choke you with your own overinflated genitalia. Do you understand?"_

_Lockhart coughed, trying to answer as his face began to go blue.  
_

_Tom released his hold and stood up._

" _Do you understand?" He repeated._

" _Y-yes," Lockhart spluttered, his voice gravelly and harsh, "I won't-"_

" _See that you don't. Or I will make you beg for death."_

_With a final kick to Lockhart's ribs, Tom strode out of the office."_

"Ginny? Are you ok?"

She opened her eyes, the consoling remembered feeling of Tom's presence warming her.

Ron was standing there, looking pale and frightened.

"Yeah," she said, the trembling in her hands beginning to slow, "I'm all right."

And for once she thought she might actually be telling the truth.


	4. Second Year, Part three

Ginny managed to hold herself back from visiting the second-floor bathroom for the first two days back at Hogwarts.

It wasn't easy. Every time that she walked anywhere near the landing that led to it, she heard it calling to her, a phantom voice that spoke to her on a level far above the need for words or sound.

She heard it, and for two days she managed to ignore it.

Saturday morning found her walking the castle after breakfast. She was planning on heading up to the owlery, to borrow a school owl and send her mother a letter reassuring her that everything was fine.

As she walked, she caught a glimpse of the bathroom door from the corner of her eye.

Like she was in a trance, she walked toward it, powerless to stop herself.

Unable up stop herself, and unsure if she even wanted to.

The door swung closed as she entered.

The bathroom was silent and empty, Myrtle apparently having chosen to bother some other area of the castle today.

She walked up to the mirror above the cracked sink and faucet.

She barely passed her eyes over the tiny snake etched into the metal, instead focusing on her reflection.

The last time that she'd looked into that mirror, Tom had looked back.

She stared at herself, a tiny hope still burning in her mind.

Her reflection did not change.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I tried but I wasn't good enough. I wanted to help you, I wanted to!"

Tears started streaming down her face, pooling on her chin before dripping into the sink.

"I'm s-sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry, I should have done better, I should have been better. I should-I-"

She shook, her confused thoughts wracking her like an earthquake.

"I-I don't want to love you, I wish I di-didn't, I wish I wouldn't th-think about you, but I-I-I can't stop, and I don't want to f-feel bad-"

She heard the sound of a few sets of footsteps, students passing the bathroom.

She spun, lurching to the nearest stall and closing the door behind her.

She dropped onto the seat, leaning her head against her cool wood of the stall's wall.

"I don't wanna feel bad about failing," she whispered, her tears calming for long enough that she could clearly enunciate the sentence, "I want-I want to be h-happy about it. But I st-still do, and I wish I had known enough to help you another w-way, to-to do what you wanted-"

The bathroom door squeaked as someone walked in.

She shuddered, shoving her hand into her mouth, the tears still flooding down her face, silently now.

She wanted to scream, to shout and roar and blubber and let the swirling mess of emotions out. At the very least, she needed to talk, to explain to Tom in this place that she still loved him, still needed him, and that she wished she didn't, wished that she had never met him, wished that she had never failed him and had been smart enough to help him like he really had needed.

She couldn't. Someone was there. They'd hear, and they'd wonder who it was, and they'd wait to see who left the bathroom after them, and then they'd tell, and-

She bit down on her hand as the terrifying images shot through her mind.

She wouldn't be allowed to stay at Hogwarts, that was for sure. If they thought she was a danger to anyone, she'd be expelled, her wand snapped and made to live like a muggle for the rest of her life.

If they didn't lock her up in Saint Mungo's, in the ward for the dangerous crazy people, that is.

A small whimper made it through her hand, echoing around the stalls.

The other person coughed.

' _I'm going to scream, I can't, I can't, I'm sorry, Tom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'_

Her left hand shot out, reaching into her robes and dragging her nails across her small breasts.

A sigh escaped her, her muscles relaxing as hot pain bubbled up and her thoughts cleared.

She could feel the warm liquid starting to run down her front.

And her frustrated, confused fear seemed to be leaving her with it.

She snatched some toilet paper and shoved it down her robes with her right hand, the scratches on her chest stinging angrily with her sudden movement.

Slowly, as she rubbed the scratches and sent new pain through her body, her tears stopped.

' _It's only right,'_  she thought, ' _Tom would have punished me. It's only right that I do it to myself if he-if he can't.'_

* * *

"Sit down, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, "would you like some tea? Or anything else to drink, for that matter?"

"No, thank you, Professor," Ginny said, settling into the comfortable armchair across the desk from her Head of House.

"Whatever you wish. Don't feel bad about asking if you do change your mind. Tell me, how have you found the first week back?"

McGonagall raised a steaming mug to her lips, sipping from it and eyeing Ginny speculatively.

"It's been good," she said.

' _Lonely, I miss him so much, I have to sneak off to go to that bathroom because that's where I can still feel him the most.'_

"Good?" McGonagall asked. "Would you perhaps care to elaborate on that?"

Ginny blushed, looking at her knees.

"Classes have been good," she said, "I've been able to follow them alright."

"Excellent. You are aware, I hope, that in Transfiguration, and I believe your other subjects as well, we have only been doing revision and will continue to do so for another week?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod, looking back up at McGonagall, "and the stuff isn't-isn't totally new to me. I remember it, and I did go over some of my textbooks over the break."

"I'm glad. I must say, if you managed the marks you did last year even with everything that was going on, I have high expectations for your future work."

' _I had Tom helping me then!'_

"Thank you."

"How have the other students been?"

"They've been ok," she said, "they're all...a bit curious, about what happened last year. But I told them that I don't want to talk about it, and they left it alone."

"I'm glad that they've been respecting your wishes, but it may be for the best if you do divulge what happened. Only to your close friends, and only when you feel ready for it, but it may help you greatly."

' _Close friends?'_ Ginny thought, managing to keep an incredulous expression off of her face.

"Has it been difficult to be back at Hogwarts?" McGonagall asked softly, "after the events of last year?"

' _Everything I see reminds me of a conversation with him. They all stare and ask me what happened.'_

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "it's actually been helpful. To be here, where it all happened, but it's not happening now."

McGonagall kept her eyes on Ginny, watching her intently.

' _Just tell her the truth, tell her-'_

She made a fist under the table, squeezing her hand tightly shut.

"It's like...it's really over," she said, hoping that her voice didn't really sound that high-pitched, "and everything's gone back to normal. It's good."

"I've noticed," McGonagall said slowly, "that you don't seem particularly well-rested. Have you been sleeping alright? Having nightmares?"

' _I'm in the same bed as last year. I spent so much time in it, writing to him, and now I'm all alone. The other girls are stuck-up bints and I have no one to talk to there.'_

"I've been sleeping alright," she said quickly, "just been difficult to get to bed early."

A small frown creased McGonagall's brow.

"And the nightmares?"

' _She's suspicious. I need to give her something, something to make her think I'm being honest.'_

"Only twice," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "And I-I couldn't remember the second one."

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall said, her voice gentler than Ginny would have thought the stern witch was capable of making it. "There is no shame in admitting it, if you have been suffering the aftereffects of You-Know-Who's possession. There is no shame in asking for help."

"I know," Ginny said.

"Then why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

"There's nothing bothering me."

McGonagall leaned forward, curling her hands around her mug with an odd expression on her face.

"I do not appreciate it when students believe they must hide their feelings from me," she said, her voice gaining back some of its usual steel, "Miss Weasley, I want to help you however I can. But I can do nothing if you are not open with me. Tell me the truth. Please."

The scratches on Ginny's chest and arms gave a painful twang, her heart beginning to pound.

"I'm fine," she said, "really."

McGonagall sighed.

"As you wish," she said doubtfully, "please know that if you ever feel comfortable to talk, day or night, except for when I am teaching, my door is always open to you."

"Thank you."

"We will meet again in a few weeks," McGonagall said, "and please consider what I have said. I truly do wish to help you."

' _You can't. No one can. No one but Tom.'_

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder, "and I will."

* * *

The cool, musty smell of old books and dust filled her nostrils as she paged through the tome.

The library was silent, no sound to be heard but the faint rustle of paper and the occasional cough or sneeze.

She found the page she was looking for and read, muttering the incantation to herself.

"Episkey. Emphasis is on the second syllable. Episkey. Episkey."

She read a bit more about the charm. It supposedly would heal minor injuries, like small broken bones or minor burns and cuts.

She had a feeling it was a spell she would become quite good at.

No one had noticed any of her scratches so far, but she'd been lucky. She'd been careful for the past three weeks, making sure that none of her roommates were paying attention while she changed.

But she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep it hidden forever, not unless she had a way of making sure that they couldn't see what she'd done.

' _This is insane! It's dangerous, it's not healthy! I should tell McGonagall, or Madam Pomfrey or someone!'_

' _They'll just think I'm crazy. They won't understand. They'll tell mum and dad.'_

She had no idea what her parents would do if they found out that she was, well, hurting herself, and she preferred to keep it that way.

They certainly wouldn't understand. They wouldn't be able to understand that she needed it, that it cut out her thoughts and stopped the hysteria from taking her over completely.

They couldn't understand that sometimes, the thoughts she had filled her with such loathing, such intense hatred that she had no choice but to punish herself.

She read over the section one more time before closing the book and placing it back on the shelf.

Idly, she ran her hand along the faded binding.

The shelf towered over her, its contents staring at her.

' _If I'd have spent more time here, maybe I'd have been able to help Tom properly.'_

An echo of his voice sounded in her mind, the memory of one of the last things he'd said to her.

' _Would you even be able to beat a fourth year in a duel?'_

The shelf in front of her was full of treatises on healing.

Without even thinking about it, she began to walk to where the Defence Against the Dark Arts Section was, to the shelves loaded full of jinxes, hexes, and curses.

And instructions on how to use them.

Again, Tom's voice sounded in her mind.

' _If you can't rebuild my body, you would need to be a soldier for me.'_

She pulled the first book that she saw off of the shelf, dropping it onto the nearest desk.

' _I can't build him a body, so-'_

' _What the bloody hell am I thinking? He's dead! He's gone, there's nobody to be a damn soldier for!'_

' _Yes there is,'_ a sly voice in the back of her mind whispered, sounding almost exactly like Tom had, ' _oh yes there is.'_

Her arm began to shake, the pages fluttering as she threw open the heavy embossed leather cover.

' _Dumbledore says he's still alive,'_ the voice whispered, ' _and he's not Tom, but he is what Tom became.'_

' _I'm going crazy, I can't be thinking about-'_

' _Why not? There still must be some of Tom in him. He can't have changed that much. And if I was helping him, I'd never have to worry about missing Tom and wishing he was here. I'd be with him-'_

' _That's You-Know-who! I can't even think about something like that, after everything he did! He killed so many people, he tortured-'_

' _Tom did horrible things too. I still love him. Just in case I do get into a position to help him, I should-'_

' _THAT'S EVIL!'_

She slammed the book closed with a bang and jumped to her feet, ignoring Madam Pince's immediate "quiet!"

She felt dizzy, her body shaking like mad, her heart doing a frenetic drumbeat.

Her left hand climbed under her robes, her fingers automatically curling into claws.

"No," she whimpered, "no."

She fled the library, not even bothering to return the book to its place on the shelf.

* * *

"Hey Ginny," Percy said, sliding into the chair opposite her, "how's the homework going?"

She let out a heartfelt sigh, dropping her quill and massaging her hand.

The common room was quiet, everyone there doing homework or talking softly.

"Well," she said, "I definitely did not miss it over the break."

"I'm not surprised," he said, "it's definitely the most onerous part of being back at school."

"You're forgetting Potions," she said with a grin.

"Potions is actually very interesting. Professor Snape just has a...precise method of teaching."

"He's a greasy git is what you mean," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good, Percy said, "I'd hate to have to take points away for blatant disrespect to a Hogwarts Professor."

He winked at her, softening the seriousness of his words.

"How've things been? I'm sorry we haven't had much time to talk, but the first few weeks were always the most hectic as a prefect, and they're even worse now."

' _Or mum just reminded you to check on me.'_

"Been good," she said, idly picking at one of her cracked nails. "Busy for us regular students too."

"Yeah?" He asked, "What have you been up to? I haven't seen you around the grounds much during break, when I've been patrolling."

"Haven't been spending much time out there," she said, thinking quickly, "the uh, Dementors, you know."

Percy shivered.

"I hope this Sirius Black debacle is sorted out soon," Percy said with a sniff, "bad enough he's loose and a danger to the public, but those things being on school grounds…"

He shook his head, shivering again.

"Yeah."

"So what have you been doing instead?"

"Exploring the castle, mostly. Did you know there's a staircase on the sixth floor that goes straight down to the first?"

"Past that painting of Heracles, right?"

"Exactly. And I've been in the library most of the rest of the time."

Percy nodded absently, his eyes locked on something across the room.

She followed his gaze to the table where Jasmine, Priscilla, and Evelyn were sitting.

They were sharing what looked like a magazine, whispering excitedly.

' _Probably about one of those stupid society events their parents were at.'_

"I wish I'd see you with friends more," Percy said softly, "it can't be nice, being alone so much."

Luckily, she'd prepared for this. During one of her sessions in the library, she'd thought about what would happen when someone wondered where she was all the time. It was inevitable, between the conversations with McGonagall and her parents having asked her brother to keep an eye on her.

Using the Dementors as an excuse had been an easy idea. It was simple, it made sense, and she knew for a fact that there were other students avoiding the grounds for that very reason.

It had taken her much longer to come up with a reason why she wasn't spending time in their company. Eventually, though, she had.

It wasn't even that far from the truth. She was being more honest than she would have liked, but if she didn't give Percy something, she could be sure that he'd be writing to her mother immediately.

Now she could only hope that he would take it at face value.

"They pity me," she said quietly. "They're all rich, and they think that we can't really have a good time since we're not. And if not because of that, they pity me because of what happened last year."

She kept her face down, her hair shading her expression.

"Do they-" Percy started.

"No," she interrupted. "They don't mock me or anything like that. They've even stopped asking about what happened. It's just...the way they talk. Like they have to be all gentle. And I hate it."

"Maybe you should say something?" He suggested, "Tell them that you don't appreciate it?"

She snorted, shaking her head.

"As if that'd work. I just-I think it'll get better. If I just leave it for a bit."

"It might," He said, "if they get to see you as your own person. If they don't just think about what happened to you whenever they look at you. But they'd need to see you like that first. It won't happen unless you talk to them."

"I-"

"Trust me, Ginny," He said, turning his eyes on her, "I know what it's like to have issues relating to year mates. Not exactly the same situation as you, but I can relate. Once they get to know you, they'll be able to put aside their preconceived ideas. But they need to get to know you. If you don't spend time with any of them, they'll assume that you're antisocial, that you're egotistical, and that you aren't interested in friendship."

He shook his head, deadly serious.

"Believe me, worthwhile as going through the library's contents may be, it's not worth losing friendships. Sometimes, you have to compromise. And if it means suffering through their pity, just for a little bit, it's worth it."

He reached out suddenly, taking her hand in his.

"I promise you," he said, "it won't be for long. Just talk about the things you like, take part in their conversations. Before you know it, they'll start seeing you for who you are."

She looked down again, hiding her tears.

' _If they knew who I really was, they'd hate me. You would too.'_

"Thanks, Perce," she said, her voice coming out thicker than intended.

"It's my pleasure. Anything I can do, I'm here. You know that."

"I do."

He smiled brightly. "Excellent. Just think about what I said. And just remember, sometimes, things seem far worse before you actually do them. But the bad parts pass very, very quickly."

' _They don't. They stay forever, and everything just gets worse.'_

* * *

"Expelliarmus!"

The empty classroom was bathed in a red glow for a moment as her spell shot forward.

The jet of light collided with a desk, sending it a few meters back.

"Ok," she muttered as she lowered her wand, "I think that's it. Can't tell without practising on someone, but I think that's it."

She glanced down at her list before nodding and raising her wand again.

"Stupefy!"

A pinkish light flew from her wand, colliding harmlessly with a desk, not even throwing up sparks.

' _Pathetic. Useless.'_

"Stupefy!"

' _Worthless,'_ that voice, so reminiscent of Tom said in her mind,  _'No wonder you couldn't help him.'_

"Stupefy!"

' _You want to be his soldier, and you can't even cast a simple spell?'_

' _I don't want to! I don't, I don't want to have anything to do with him!'_

' _Oh,'_ the sneering voice said, ' _that must be why you don't stop thinking about him. That must be why yesterday you cried and begged him to come back.'_

' _I-'_

' _I'd you really didn't want him, you'd have gone to Dumbledore. You'd have asked him for help. But you won't, because you know the truth. Without Tom, you're nothing. You're empty. Useless. Weak.'_

"I'm not," she whispered, the salty tang of her tears bathing her tongue, "mum and dad and-and everyone, they all say-"

' _What would they say if they knew what you were really doing in your breaks? What would Evelyn have said this morning, if you hadn't been doing that healing charm? Would they still love you? Would they still be so proud of you, if they knew you still dream about You-Know-Who?'_

Her words emerged choked, her voice thick with emotion.

"They w-would, they-"

' _Liar. They'd abandon you in an instant, lock you away somewhere where you couldn't hurt them. There's only one person who always cared about you, no matter what. There's only one person who would really love you, no matter what you decide to do. And you're happy with being too useless to help him.'_

"He's V-V-Volde-Voldemort! He-he just wants to-to kill, to hurt-"

' _You said you'd kill for Tom, remember? Was that just a lie? He would've killed Lockhart for you, if you'd have asked him to.'_

Her legs gave way, dropping her to her knees with a painful crunch.

"I don't want to," she cried, dropping sideways onto the dusty floor, "I d-don't want-"

' _If you really didn't want it, you wouldn't be practising fighting spells, would you? Just admit it.'_

She sobbed harder, pulling her knees up to her chest and gripping them tightly with her arms.

* * *

"Miss Weasley," Professor Lupin called, his voice clear over the scraping chairs as everyone rose to their feet. "Please stay behind."

"Good luck," Colin whispered as he passed her.

She nodded back to him, hastily covering the bottom of the parchment before her with her hand.

She'd spaced out, toward the end of class. The last fifteen minutes or so, she hadn't done anything other than doodle.

As always, her mindless artwork was nothing other than a name repeated over and over again.

' _Did he call on me? Is that it? Or-or-'_

Her heart started pounding in her throat, thoughts of Lockhart filling her mind.

' _Tom can't save me now, it's just me and I can't do anything.'_

A sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead, her lungs suddenly barely responding to her.

' _Oh god, I can't do anything, Tom can't help me, I'm on my own and-'_

"Are you alright, Miss Weasley?"

"I'm fine," she said, still looking down at her desk, her hands shaking so bad that she'd ripped a corner off of the parchment as she'd folded it.

The classroom door closed with an ominous thud.

"Miss Weasley. I don't mean to be rude, but you don't seem fine."

She looked up finally, having managed to fold the parchment and drop it onto her pocket.

Lupin had moved toward her and now sat a few desks away, both his hands clearly in sight.

He wore a worried frown, the added lines on his face making him look even older and more tired than he usually did.

"I really am," she said. "Just tired. I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm feeling a bit ill."

"Miss Weasley," He said with a sigh, "I'm not asking about your feelings today. I'm asking about what I've seen from you over the last five weeks of classes."

' _What?'_

Nodding slightly at her confused look, Lupin went on.

"I've caught you losing focus more times than any other student, and while your homework and quiz marks are always high, I don't think you've ever volunteered any information in class."

He hesitated for a moment before going on. "You often seem very tense and nervous, as you clearly are right now. You usually look as if you didn't sleep the night before, and I don't think I've ever seen you with the other students during break. So I'll ask you again. Are you alright?"

' _No, I'm not. The scratching isn't doing enough anymore, and I keep reading about magic for hurting people and I don't want to, and I can't stop, and I'm terrified!'_

' _I'm such an idiot. I've been so careful in Transfiguration, but I didn't think about this class. I'm such an idiot!'_

"It's the Dementors," she said, surprising herself with how easily the prepared lie sprang to her lips. "It's like…whenever I want to go outside, they're there. And it just…they make everything so...so-"

"Terrible," He said softly.

She nodded.

"I see," he said, still sounding troubled. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"I'm sure," she said, forcing her lips into a smile that she hoped looked real.

"You should see Madam Pomfrey," he said, "She can give you better advice than I about how to deal with the Dementors' effects. And you should keep chocolate with you. It really does help."

"I will," she said, tightening her hands around her thighs to keep them in place and prevent herself from bolting.

"If you ever wish to talk," he said, "I will make myself available. Anything you tell me will be kept in confidence."

"Thank you, Professor."

' _Liar. You'd be talking to McGonagall five minutes later.'_

* * *

The day after Lupin held her back in class Ginny approached Colin in their first break.

She'd thought about what Lupin had said, repeating his words in her mind as she wondered what the hell she was going to do.

After Percy's conversation with her two weeks earlier, she'd been trying to make more of an effort with the other students.

She made a point of not spending all of her breaks alone, or at least sitting with the girls for a little bit, even though their conversations bored her half to tears.

Even though it meant that she had less time to look up useful spells in the library and less time to practice them.

Even though it meant that sometimes she sat there, praying for the conversation to just finish so that she could find somewhere secret to release her pent-up pain.

She did, however, make sure not to leave  _that_  too long. She learned through bitter experience that if she let the pressure in her rise too high before releasing it, she didn't exactly have the greatest control over herself when she finally did.

On the other hand, she had become quite good at casting Episkey and a charm she'd found for siphoning away blood. She hadn't quite mastered Episkey yet, and the cuts, while sealing very nicely and becoming difficult to see, did not vanish entirely.

Still, it was good enough that if someone were to see her changing, as Evelyn had the week before, they wouldn't notice the scratch marks. Not if they weren't looking for them.

She had  _that_ covered, and didn't need to worry about people looking too closely at her for it.

She had reached, she thought, a good balance. Spending enough time with friends that whenever Percy, or even one of the twins looked at her, their smile was more genuine and less concerned.

McGonagall too had seemed less worried in their last conversation. She had still asked Ginny if there was anything she was holding back, but she asked that every time they met, and it seemed more of a rote question than true suspicion.

But apparently, she hadn't fooled Lupin. If the Defence Professor, who'd only known her for a month, could see through her mask, the chances of her siblings or Head of House seeing clearly as well were just too high.

So she'd thought very carefully about a way to ease Lupin's worries.

Her plan also would, hopefully, let her kill two birds with one stone.

"Hey, Colin," she called, pushing through the stream of students.

He turned, giving her an amiable smile as she reached his side.

Colin was easily her best choice. He was easy-going enough to just follow her directions, and he was one of the more normal people her age.

Except for his absurd obsession with Harry Potter.

"Hey, Ginny, what's up?"

"Not much, just-could I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure," He said with a shrug.

She led him down the corridor, taking a left turn and walking into one of the unused classrooms she'd discovered over the past few weeks.

"So," He asked, "what's going on?"

"I just wanted to ask if…maybe…you'd like to join me and practice spells sometime?"

His face flickered through a series of excited expressions.

Yes, asking Colin has definitely been the right decision.

"Sounds cool," He said, "what type of things do you have in mind?"

"I've been looking up a bunch of defensive spells," she said, "stuff you could use in a fight."

"In a fight?" Colin asked, "but-I thought-"

"Not just fighting spells," she quickly said, cursing her tactlessness, "Other stuff too, generally useful spells. I was just thinking of last year, how…things would have gone very different if-If we would've been able to actually fight back."

She saw the steely glint flash in Colin's eyes, and she knew that she had him.

"I'm in," he said.

* * *

The soft snoring and rhythmic breathing of sleep filled the room, white noise that should have comforted her.

She clenched her hands tightly on her thighs, pulling at the little bit of loose skin there.

It happened often, as she tried to go to sleep. Memories of Tom filling her mind, coating her thoughts with a feeling of sorrow so thick it felt like it would take physical form and smother her.

"' _Sometimes,' she had written, 'I really just want to punch Jasmine in her stupid face.'_

_The words stayed on the page for a second before disappearing. Almost the instant they were gone, her heart lifted as Tom's writing appeared._

' _What did the imbecile do this time?'_

_She stared at the curtain surrounding her bed as if her vision could somehow pierce the gold and red hangings and settle on Jasmine's sleeping form._

' _She was talking to the other girls about some stupid Christmas ball they all go to. And then she says that she can't imagine what it must be like for people whose families don't go to such important events.'_

_The embarrassed anger boiled in her. She'd wanted to tell Tom about it right away, but the conversation had taken place during their walk back from Astronomy. She'd had to wait, shame turning her ears and cheeks red all the while, until they'd returned to their rooms and she had the chance to speak to him._

' _Then she looked at me,' she wrote, 'and she did her annoying gasping thing, and she apologized. Said that she didn't mean to hurt my feelings. She knew I was right there, she knew it!'_

' _I'm sorry about that,' Tom answered, 'it must be painful, to have her rub her family's social standing in your face. Using her ancestors' achievements as if they mean anything about herself.'_

' _Exactly! She's never done anything special, her grades are a lot worse than mine, and she's never had to do anything for herself!'_

' _Back when I was a student, I suffered through the misfortune of knowing several people like this foolish brat you've described. All of them from high society families, all of them puffed up with their meaningless pride. All of them insufferably arrogant. And none of them doing anything to improve themselves.'_

_She smiled, warmth filling her. Tom, at least, could be counted on to understand her._

' _I can relate to what you are experiencing, Ginny. At the beginning of my school career, I was looked down upon, thought to be no better than the rest of my schoolmates. However, it did not take long for them to recognize me as their superior. It is the same with you, Ginny. You are infinitely better than those foolish chits could ever hope to be. You know it, I know it, and even they know it. Why do you think they invest so much energy in trying to make you feel lesser? They know that you are so much better than them, and they detest that fact. They loathe that knowledge so much that they have no choice but to try and tear you down. They know that you are better than them, but their ignorant parents have trained them to view the world as revolving around them. They wish for nothing as much as to tear you down, because then they will have won. If they can just get you to believe that they truly are better than you, you will end up proving them right. You must not allow them to win, Ginny. You are above them, just as I was above my own schoolmates. You are above them, and I will stand by your side as long as I possibly can.'  
_

_Her teardrops fell on the diary, making Tom's ink run._

_She'd read the message though, and that was all that mattered. Her heart swelled, Tom's warmth filling her._

' _And remember this, Ginny. They will live pale imitations of true life, adding nothing of lasting value to the world, taking nothing with them when they finally die after filling their empty days with meaningless distractions. It is up to you whether you will follow their foolish path or not.'_

' _Thank you, Tom,' she wrote, 'I feel much better now.'_

' _Anything I can do to help, my dear. Anything. You know I'm here for you at all times. But you should get some sleep, didn't you say you have a Transfiguration quiz tomorrow?'_

' _Yes. But with you helping me, I can't fail.'_

' _Ah, Ginny. Willing as I am to help you with your schoolwork, you have proven far more than capable yourself.'_

' _That's true, but you have helped a lot.'_

' _Of course. And I will continue to do so, whenever necessary.'_

' _Thanks, Tom. I love you. Good night.'_

' _Good night, Ginny. I love you too. Pleasant dreams.'_

She turned over in her bed with a sigh, her muscles relaxed.

"Good night, Tom" she whispered, "good night."

As much as she wished she would, she heard no reply.

* * *

"Pass me one of the Shrivelfigs, Luna," she asked, dropping the one she'd been working on into the baskets Professor Sprout had provided. "I'm done with this one."

Luna handed the Shrivelfig over, one of the bracelets on her arm gleaming as she dropped the purple fruit next to Ginny's pair of shears.

"Thanks," she muttered, picking up the shears.

"Ginny, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did the Ministry place a Tongue-Tying curse on you?"

Ginny dropped the shears, turning back toward Luna.

"What?"

"Did the Ministry place a Tongue-Tying curse on you?" Luna repeated, blinking owlishly at her.

"I-what? No! Why would you even think so?"

"Because you were involved in what happened last year," Luna said matter-of-factly, "And the Minister couldn't let anyone know about the Chamber of Secrets, because then everyone would know about his plans for Gringotts."

Ginny just stared.

"So they had to make sure that you wouldn't talk about it. And that's why you don't."

"Luna…I-I don't even-"

"No, no," Luna said with a shake of her head, "you're right. It was silly of me to ask. They'd have done it properly so that you wouldn't be able to talk about it."

Luna patted Ginny on the arm, looking at her compassionately,

"Luna," Ginny said quietly, "the Ministry wasn't involved. I just-I don't like to talk about it, because-because it was really traumatic."

Luna blinked her silver eyes again, looking at her expectantly.

She sighed, leaning closer.

"I-I almost died,"  _'I should have died,'_ "I have nightmares about it. It-it was terrifying. And I couldn't do anything to stop it."

' _I didn't want to stop it. I still don't want to stop it.'_

"I don't like to think about it too much," she said, "because it-it still scares me. A lot. That's why I don't talk about it."

In a sudden motion that had Ginny's hand flying for her wand, Luna grabbed her in a tight hug.

"Miss Lovegood!" Came Professor Sprout's scandalized voice at once, "You are in the middle of a class!"

"Sorry, Professor," Luna said, releasing Ginny and turning back to her own shears and pile of Shrivelfigs, "I forgot."

"Five points from Ravenclaw," Professor Sprout said, exasperation taking the heat from her voice, "And please try to keep your mind focused for the duration of this lesson."

"I will," Luna said serenely.

Ginny heard one of the other Ravenclaws mutter something, followed immediately by laughter.

"Do you like to play chess?" Luna asked.

Ginny paused her peeling and turned her head.

"Kinda. My brother Ron, he's the real chess master in the family, but I'm alright."

"We should play sometime," Luna said, "I'll teach you father's variation of the rules. It's far more fun."

Ginny smiled, thoughts of Tom for once not consuming her.

"I'd like that," she said, and meant it.

* * *

She managed to twist out of the path of Colin's Jelly-Legs Jinx, immediately sending a Body-Bind back that hit the desk he hastily kicked forward.

He jerked his wand again, shouting wildly as he sent a Disarmer her way.

She didn't even need to move, the red jet flying past her and crashing into a wall.

Over the last month or so, she and Colin had spent one of the two times they met each week duelling. They'd gotten a bit of a handle of each other's skills and weaknesses, and their abilities had certainly grown, if only by a bit.

Colin was faster than her, both in his body movements and his spellcasting. He had a much greater chance than she did of getting out of the way of an oncoming spell, or of getting an obstruction in its path.

She, on the other hand, had better aim and was frankly more talented than him. If his Disarming Charm had hit her, it wasn't likely that it would have had the full effect. The last time that he'd got her with one, she still had managed to keep a hold of her wand, even if it was a close call.

"Bombarda!"

Her spell was not aimed at Colin but rather at the desk before him. It hit, sending the desk careening backwards.

' _Not quite what it's meant to do.'_

Colin jumped to the side, and she took aim again.

"STUPEFY!"

Colin fell forward, landing hard on the stone floor.

' _I did it,'_ she thought, triumph roaring through her veins, ' _I can't believe I did it properly!'_

She walked forward, standing above Colon's unconscious form.

"Rennervate!"

He didn't move.

' _Concentrate. Think about waking him up.'_

"Rennervate!"

He stirred feebly, wiping the dust off of his face as he shakily got back onto his legs.

"You didn't tell me that would hurt," he said chidingly, "I really banged my knees."

"Sorry," she said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of her voice fully, "didn't really think about that."

"Of course you managed it before me," he grumbled, "it's just not fair how much better at these spells you are."

' _I did it. It worked. I can't wait to tell Tom, he'll-'_

The sudden pain of her loss shot through her in a horrid jolt.

Colin was looking down as he rubbed his legs, and didn't see the crestfallen expression form.

' _I can't tell him, I can't tell him, he's gone and-'_

' _You can still tell him. Remember, Dumbledore says he's still alive. That's what you're doing all this for, right?'_

' _No! I'm not going to-'_

"Ginny?" Colin asked, "Are you alright?"

"S-sorry," she said, shaking her head, "just-just got a stomach cramp. I-I need to go."

She grabbed her bag in a hurry, almost spilling out the contents before she remembered to close it.

"If you need-"

"I don't need the Hospital Wing," she said quickly, "I'll be fine."

"If you're sure," he said doubtfully.

She shot him a weak smile on her way to the door.

As soon as she was out of the classroom she ran, putting her head down so that no one would notice her tears.

* * *

With a snort, she put her mother's letter down on her bedside table.

It was actually a nice letter, all things considered. Filled, as her mother's letters always were, with small bits of news from the extended family and stories about her parents' day to day life.

It was soft, warm. Empty.

Near the end, the contents had segued into questions about Ginny. How was she doing, how have her classes been, how were her friends.

And a few sentences about how happy her mother was to hear that she wasn't spending as much time alone anymore, that even if Luna was a bit strange, she'd always been a nice girl, and a question or two about Colin.

Of course, she'd known that Percy would be keeping her mother up to date on her activities, if the twins, Ron, McGonagall, and Dumbledore weren't as well.

She'd banked on it, and apparently, she'd been right.

She smiled, scratching restlessly against her chest, tears forming in her eyes.

* * *

The day before Halloween she reached into her bag, the closed toilet seat creaking under her as she leaned forward.

As the days moved closer toward the end of October, she found her thoughts becoming increasingly frantic and panic-driven.

Memories kept playing in her mind, of what it had been like the year before.

A part of her knew that nothing would happen, that she'd wake up in two days' time with complete memories of the night before and no flakes of paint drying under her nails.

A part of her hoped that she was wrong.

Her spare potions knife caught the light as she drew it, shining back into her eyes and sending up bright spots in her vision.

Her heart sped up, her breathing quickening in anxious anticipation.

' _This is insane! It's dangerous, it's crazy, don't-'_

She shook her head, a dreamlike feeling smothering her.

It may have been insane, but it was the only thing that she could think to do. The only hope she had of easing her mind, of continuing her act.

Besides, she deserved the pain. She deserves it for loving Tom, for loving a monster.

And for failing him.

She pulled back her left sleeve, the scratch marks barely noticeable.

Her nails were no longer an option. She bitten them as far down as she could, to the point where even using her fingers sent a dull throb through her.

Even if she hadn't, simply scratching herself didn't quite satisfy the way it once had.

She needed something more.

The cold blade rested against her shaking skin, her heart a drumbeat in her throat.

' _No, no, don't, no!'_

She pressed her weight down on the knife as she dragged it across her arm, relieved agony derailing her confused thoughts even as the blood welled up.

A happy sigh escaped her, her pounding heart already beginning to slow, tension seeping from her muscles.

She leaned back, her eyes half closed as she bathed in the blissful relief.

' _The best, this is the best, this is perfect.'_

' _It's wrong,'_ a stubborn part of her said,  _'it's wrong, and dangerous, and completely nuts! It's-'_

' _Exactly what I need.'_

An indeterminate amount of time passed, and she opened her eyes, focusing on her arm.

The cut was maybe half the thickness of one of her fingers, drawn across the width of her arm just below the elbow.

It stung brazenly, blood still leaking out and joining the trail down to her fingers, dripping softly onto the floor.

She stared for a moment, entranced.

' _It shouldn't feel so good. People aren't meant to-to like it when something hurts them. It's not normal, I need to-'_

' _Tell anyone, and what will they do? Especially now that they all think I'm doing so much better. How will they react? They'll be horrified, they'll think I'm crazy! I can't tell them, none of them could understand. Nobody can.'_

"Episkey," she whispered, holding her wand an inch away from her torn skin.

The wound knitted itself closed, her skin coming together almost as if nothing had happened.

"Tergeo."

Blood rose wherever she aimed her wand, flying into the air from her arm, hand, and the floor.

It formed a small ball, floating in mid-air.

She stood up, lifting the seat and flicking her wand, sending the ball of blood into the toilet.

The cut was nothing more than a small pale line on her arm, barely noticeable against her freckled skin.

She pushed her sleeve back down, swung her bag over her shoulder and flushed the toilet.

Then she brushed her hair back and smiled, ready to face the world again.

* * *

The stars glittered down at her from the enchanted ceiling, the occasional cloud crossing the sky and blocking out some of the thousands of pinpricks of light.

She lay on her back with her hands folded beneath her head, the sleeping bag soft below her and the quiet sounds of hundreds of sleeping bodies and dozens of whispered conversations filling her ears.

The scowling image of a long-haired man flitted through her mind for a second.

She wondered what it was like, for Sirius Black. To have been  _his_ right-hand man, to have been closer to him than perhaps anyone else.

To have known him, maybe even better than she had.

She wondered what it was like for him, to not have to hide the truth. To admit it, not just to himself but to the world. To proudly stand up for  _him_ , to do whatever was asked without a second thought, without a moment's hesitation.

' _It must be nice,'_ she thought, ' _it must feel like-like being free.'_

A loud whisper cut through the susurrus, prompting an acidic and immediate call of "Silence!" from Snape.

She turned her head, looking at the three sleeping bags that had raised Snape's ire.

A shock of red hair emerged from one, a pile of messy black hair from the second, and a big bushy clump from the third.

As always, a confusing mixture of feelings tugged at her when she saw Harry.

He'd saved her. But he'd saved her too late.

And he'd killed Tom.

' _No wonder Sirius Black hates him,'_ she thought, turning over in her sleeping bag and getting comfortable, ' _I'd hate him too.'_

Just before sleep claimed her, one more thought flashed through her mind.

' _I think I already do.'_


	5. Second Year, Part four

"This one looks cool," Colin said, pointing at something halfway down the page, "look, it turns you invisible!"

She looked over his shoulder, reading a little bit.

"Yeah," she admitted, "it does sound cool. But I'm sure it's above our level, at least for the moment."

"Above my level, yeah. Not too sure if it's above yours though."

She smiled, her cheeks going pink.

"Thanks."

"I'm serious. You practically get all of these spells on the first try. You've really got a talent for them."

She swatted him lightly on the shoulder, turning back to her own book with a grin.

Sometimes, Colin's sweet and genial nature broke through the walls in her mind, making her forget everything. No thoughts of Tom or Voldemort, no half-formed, obscene plans to try and help the worst dark wizard in history.

He made her feel like a normal girl.

Invariably, it didn't last. The feeling would fade, if only for a moment.

A moment's pause was all her mind needed to remind her, to make her remember what Tom had done to the kind, naive boy she was sitting with.

At the time, she'd been almost angry with Tom. Even back then, she'd gotten along well with Colin, thinking of him as a friend.

But Tom had hurt him, almost killed him, even.

Her innards writhed, guilt and pain taking on a physical sensation, making her gorge want to rise.

Friendly, innocent Colin was perfectly happy sitting with her, talking with the girl who'd helped put him in the hospital wing for most of the previous year.

He practiced spells with her, giving her a way of improving her skills.

And he smiled and complimented her.

Sometimes, she wanted to just punch him in his stupid Mudblood mouth. When she didn't want to cry and beg him for forgiveness.

"I think we should start on this one," she said, ignoring the itching on her arm and the nervous energy filling her belly, "the shield charm."

"I'm game."

"Great," she said, turning her head so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

* * *

The hot water cascaded over her, pouring down her body and mingling with her tears, forming a pool around the drain at her feet.

She leaned over, her head knocking against the tiles every few seconds, her body shaking with pent-up sobs and her frantic attempt to keep from vomiting.

Adrenaline still pounded through her, a leftover of the horrific nightmare that had jolted her from sleep with her lips slamming shut over a terrified cry.

' _It was just because of all that stuff I was reading,'_ she told herself,  _'that's all. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't!'_

In her dream, she'd been in a large misty room, one that her sleeping mind had known was the Great Hall.

An image had floated in mid-air, the smoky skull and snake that  _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ claimed was Voldemort's sign.

Everywhere that she'd looked there had been bodies.

The corpses had been indistinct, until she'd looked more closely.

Then their faces had swum into clarity, taking on the visages of people she knew.

It seemed like everyone she knew had been there. Her parents, all of her brothers, Colin, Luna, Evelyn, Priscilla, Jasmine, Harry, Hermione.

All of them lying dead on the floor, their bodies showing unmistakable signs of extreme violence.

The teachers had been there as well, blood matting into Dumbledore's beard and turning the silver hair auburn as it had been in his youth.

She'd run through the enormous tomb, her body moving in that strange way it always seemed to in dreams.

She'd been calling for anyone still alive, crying as she moved the dead and searched for signs of life.

She'd felt the hand on her shoulder and had suddenly been facing the other way.

Tom had been there.

He'd smiled at her and taken her hand.

"I knew you could do it," he'd said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it, "I knew it. You have served me well, Ginevra."

Blood trailed down her palm, her skin torn away from his touch.

Suddenly, the knowledge had filled her mind.

She'd been the one to kill everyone. It had been her wand that stole their lives, her wand that marred their bodies.

She'd smiled at Tom, laughing at the sensation of his hands gripping her robes and tearing them away.

"And now," he'd said, his own robes dissipating into fog, "for your reward. My love."

He'd kissed her, and she'd woken up with a curiously pleasant heat emanating from her groin even as nausea and fear wracked her.

"It's just because of that book," she muttered, "it's not-I don't want that! It's not going to happen, it's not!"

' _Liar. You wish the dream hadn't ended, don't you? You'd do anything for Tom. You know you would.'_

"Dumbledore said it'd get better. It just needs more time, and I'll-"

' _But you don't want it to get better, do you? You don't really want to stop thinking about Tom, you don't want to stop loving him. You still wonder what it would be like to kiss him, you still wish that you could.'_

"I don't," she babbled, her voice rising from the harsh whisper it'd been pitched at, "I don't, I hate him, I hate him-"

' _How can you say that? After all he did for you, how can you possibly even think that? How dare you! Ungrateful bitch!'_

Her hand shot out, seemingly of its own accord.

When she'd woken up, she had thought to take more than just her body to the shower.

"I just want it to be over," she sobbed, her fingers closing over the handle of the knife, "it's meant to be over!"

' _As long as there's still a chance for Tom,'_ the voice whispered,  _'it can't be over. And you would be the worst person in the world to leave him when you could finally pay him back for all he did for you.'_

"I am the worst person in the world. I've got to be, to-to love a monster like him."

She slashed the knife across her thigh, and slowly, the water turned pink.

* * *

She jumped to her feet, whooping loudly as Katie scored a goal.

The wind howled, thunder cracking and rain pelting into her face so hard that she could hardly see.

She raised her head in primal joy, letting herself get swept up in the cry of the Gryffindors around her.

She felt  _alive,_ alivein a way that she barely did the rest of the time.

Out here there was only the glory of watching the game, the freedom of losing herself in the cheering crowd.

Out here she didn't have to watch her every move, fearfully wondering if anyone had seen through her act.

Out here she didn't have to worry about the meaning of her repetitive dream, about the imagined feeling of Tom's lips on hers while blood seeped through the stones of the castle.

Out here, she could just  _be_.

' _I'll try out for the team as soon as I can,'_ she decided, peering through the gloom at the huddle of the team.  _'It must be so much better for them.'_

"Told you this'd be fun," she shouted, grinning fiercely at Colin.

"Fun? Maybe if I could actually see!"

The shrill cry of a whistle cut through the downpour, her retort dying in her throat as she followed the players back into the air.

"There's Harry!" Colin shouted, pointing at a figure streaking across the field, "Look at him go!"

"He's chasing Diggory," she yelled back, "one of them must've seen it!"

The two Seekers were neck in neck, rising higher into the air.

An icy pall fell over the pitch, lightning striking and seeming muted and dull.

The bottom fell out of her stomach and a memory started playing in her head.

" _She clutched the diary to her chest, her knees raised protectively around it. She shoved her head deeper into the cushion, not allowing her sobbing to escape._

_The soft sleeping noises of her roommates filtered through the crimson and gold hangings, blotted out by Tom's voice in her mind._

' _I thought you cared for me,' he said, his usually warm voice empty and made cold with sadness, 'I thought you understood how much you mean to me.'_

' _I do,' she thought desperately, 'I do, I'm-'_

' _Then why did you cast me aside? Close to two weeks. Two weeks! I lay there with toilet water sinking into my pages, calling for you. Did I do that to you? Make you wait when you needed me?'_

' _I'm s-'_

' _When Lockhart had you at his will, did I abandon you? When your so-called friends and family left you to your own devices and you felt all alone, did I answer you? Or did I make you wait?'_

' _You-'_

' _I came,' he snarled, 'whenever you needed me, I came to your rescue. And what do I get in return?'"_

As if from a great distance, she heard the screams of the crowd, saw the forest of black cloaks floating onto the pitch.

One of the Seekers stopped their flight, hovering in mid-air above the Dementor horde.

She saw Dumbledore, his white hair visible even through the storm and from so far away, rising to his feet and twirling his wand.

"' _I'm sorry, Tom,' she thought, 'I'm so s-'_

' _Sorry isn't enough,' he thought coldly, 'After all I've done for you, you believe it fair to put me through that agony?'_

' _I got scared,' she thought desperately, 'I wasn't-'_

' _You weren't sure if you wanted to continue in my work,' he snarled back, 'and instead of asking me, instead of explaining your worries, you threw me aside.'_

' _I don't-I don't want to hurt anyone,' she cried, her thoughts ringing with pained confusion, 'I don't know why we have to-'_

' _Now is not the time to discuss that,' Tom said. 'Now is the time for you to decide if you still want me.'_

' _I do! I do, I-'_

' _Do you? Allow me to rephrase. Now is the time for me to decide if I still want you.'_

' _Tom,' she started, a fresh bout of tears flooding out at his words, 'pl-'_

' _Why should I? I have been nothing but good to you, and you abandoned me. I saved you from Lockhart's desires, and you repay me with callous cruelty. It is I and I alone who have been there for you through all of your difficulties with your friends and family. Instead of assisting me in my most important work, you choose to hinder me, putting me in danger so that you can keep your ignorant little conscience clear. Why should I continue to talk to you? Why should I not simply force you to give me to another, to someone who would treat me the way I deserve? Why, Ginny?'_

' _I-'_

' _You told me that you love me,' he thought, the pain in his voice cutting her to the bone, 'you told me that I was the greatest thing to ever happen to you. If you can't even act like that is true, why should I expend any energy on you?'_

' _I'll do better,' she sobbed, 'I will!'_

' _And why should I trust you? Any trust I had for you is gone, Ginny. You cannot bring it back.'_

' _Please! I won't question you, I'll do whatever you want-'_

' _You should have been doing that already! Is the concept of gratitude so far from your Muggle-addled brain? I saved you, Ginny! I saved you from Lockhart's depredations, I saved you from the quiet death of loneliness.'_

_A second passed, her mind empty of everything but guilt._

' _It seems I was wrong about you,' Tom thought quietly, 'I thought you were better than you are. I should not have expected you to be better than anyone else. The fault lies with me for having misread you.'"_

Even from across the stands, even with her mind consumed by memory, she could sense the fury and power radiating off of Dumbledore.

She heard the gasps and shouts, saw the player falling off of their broom out of the corner of her eye.

Something silver shot from Dumbledore's wand, flying straight for the Dementors.

"' _You weren't wrong, I'll prove it, I'll-'_

' _Will you?' Tom asked doubtfully._

' _I will! I'll never question you, I'll do whatever you want! Just don't leave me, Tom, please, don't leave me!'_

' _I'd like nothing better than to trust you, Ginny,' Tom thought, his sadness filling her mind, 'but I don't know if I can.'_

' _Please! Please, Tom! Just one more chance!'_

' _One more chance. Very well. One chance, Ginny. And if you do not treat me as you should, I will force you to hand me to someone who shall.'"_

Whatever Dumbledore sent at the Dementors, it scattered them, leaving them to flee the pitch as he waved his wand again and made the falling body slow in its descent.

"HARRY'S FALLING!" Colin screamed, standing at the edge of his seat, "HE'S GONNA HIT!"

"' _Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won't let you down, I swear it!'_

' _You may say so now,' Tom said, 'but how will you be sure to keep your promise later?'_

' _I-'_

' _I think you should be punished. It is only fair, don't you think?'_

_The fierce joy filling her wasn't diminished in the slightest by this. Tom was taking her back, and that was all that mattered._

' _Yes, Tom.'_

' _Good.'_

_And a burst of pain shot through her mind, filling her with such agony that she couldn't even breathe, let alone scream._

_It didn't stop, the sensation of a thousand burning knives slicing into her, every inch of her body screaming in agony._

_Her bladder let go, warm urine soaking through her knickers and into her bedsheets in an instant._

_Her lungs worked, air filling her in a rush, and she opened her mouth to scream, her roommates forgotten in her pain._

' _If you scream,' Tom said, his voice cutting cleanly through her agony 'you will wake the others. And if you do that, I may choose to leave you.'_

_Somehow, she managed to keep her wails inside, biting deeply into her pillow as the tears marked their trails down her face._

_An eternity passed before it receded._

_She lay there, body shaking with the aftereffects._

' _Do you think that was enough?' Tom asked, his voice wry, 'Do you think that was enough to make up for what you did to me? Enough to rebuild the trust you shattered? Enough to appease me?'_

_It took a few minutes for his questions to register._

_She barely had to think about it._

' _No, Tom.'_

' _Well?'_

' _I-'_

' _Do you believe you deserve more?'_

_She gritted her teeth, her toes curling up and hands forming into fists._

' _Yes.'_

' _Do you really? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?'"_

Harry fell, the sound of his collision enormous in the sudden silence that had gripped the stadium.

Everyone started screaming, the teachers rushing onto the pitch and waving their wands.

The memory, once begun, continued in her mind.

"' _No, I-I really think-I was wrong, Tom, I shouldn't have-shouldn't have-'_

' _Betrayed me?'_

' _I shouldn't have betrayed you! You-you've been so good to me, I don't deserve it, I don't want to lose you, please! Whatever will-will make you happy! Please!'_

' _Well,' he said reluctantly, 'perhaps one more dose.'"_

"Do you think he's alright?" Colin asked, too scared to take his eyes off of the stretcher being led off of the pitch.

"He'll be fine," she answered, her shaking subsiding as the memory passed.

' _I hope he dies.'_

* * *

"Heliopath to Consort B," Luna said.

The flaming piece followed her instructions, shooting forward in a straight line and sending other pieces scattering out of its path.

The consort reacted quickly, waving her miniature wand and shooting a jet of icy air at the Heliopath.

The fiery creature quickly overpowered Ginny's consort, sending the tiny carving flying off of the board with soot all over it.

Before Ginny even thought of her next move, a small fight began on Luna's side of the board.

One of Luna's pawns had suddenly turned on the rest of her pieces, its colour changing from white to black while it attacked.

"Oh no," Luna gasped, "A spy got through. Rook D forward, Eagle forward..."

Ginny giggled as Luna tried to contain the damage.

Luna had called it a variation of normal chess rules, but for all intents and purposes it was a separate game entirely.

The board was almost twice the size of a regular chessboard, instead of two rows of pieces each it had five, and it had four entirely new types of pieces. Two consorts, two Heliopaths, three spies, three eagles.

The pieces were also far more independent than in normal chess. They made alliances, came up with plans, and would sometimes totally ignore the players' orders.

Also, instead of the pieces simply taking each other, they would fight it out, battling each other for a chance to survive.

They'd played probably ten times, and she still wasn't entirely sure of the rules. In fact, she was half-convinced that Luna was simply making them up as they went along.

It was a completely absurd game, incredibly difficult to play, and it was fun as hell.

It also confirmed something she'd always kind of known about Luna's father.

He may have been a totally nutter, but he was a pretty brilliant wizard.

The enchantments on the pieces were simply fantastic. The little people were intricately carved, each with their own personalities and strategies.

She'd assumed that Ron, chess purist that he was, would have absolutely despised the game. He hadn't, funnily enough.

He hadn't really seemed to care about it, actually.

She'd borrowed the game from Luna and had tried to show Ron how it worked, and he'd played along for a bit. Then Hermione had walked into the Common Room and he'd made some stupid comment about her cat.

The next thing she knew, he was storming up to his room, leaving her to pack away the game with a silently seething Hermione sitting next to her.

She hadn't tried to play it with him again, and he hadn't asked.

It was much more fun with Luna, anyway. With Luna, the game was interrupted with some of the strangest and most comfortable conversations Ginny ever had.

"There we go," Luna muttered, her eagle swooping in, picking up the flailing spy, and throwing him to the other side of the board where he knocked over two of Ginny's pawns.

"It's still my turn though," Ginny asked, "right?"

Luna nodded seriously.

"Ok. Heliopath to Queen."

Her last surviving Heliopath shot forward, fire streaming from its hands.

It carved a hole through Luna's flank, cutting down pawns and knights with equal ease.

Luna's queen fled the board before the Heliopath could reach it.

"Hmmm. You know, father thinks that the Dementors are all a distraction."

"Yeah?"

"Pawn to G5. Yeah. He says that it's because they don't want anyone to know they found Merlin's tomb."

"Eagle to pawn. Why not?"

"Because of the map," Luna said, looking at Ginny with incredulity, "to Avalon. Fudge wants to get the treasure before any of the public have a chance at it. Father says he'll have it all put together for the next edition of the Quibbler. I'm sure people will be very interested in seeing the truth."

"I'm sure they will," Ginny said, biting the inside of her cheek.

She still wasn't quite sure if Luna actually believed all of her father's theories. She'd decided it wasn't worth poking holes in all the inconsistencies after Luna had started getting annoyed with her.

"Check," Luna said.

Ginny cursed under her breath.

She set her queen forward, taking Luna's eagle.

"You've seemed a bit distant lately," Luna said, still not lifting her eyes from the board, "is everything alright?"

' _Why don't you tell her?'_ The insidious voice whispered,  _'tell her about your dreams, about your spell practice. Tell her that you're thinking more and more about Tom every day. She'll still want to spend time with you, won't she?'_

"I'm alright," she answered curtly.

"Are you? Checkmate."

"I keep thinking about it," she admitted, "what happened last year. I just get these thoughts, and once they start they don't stop."

"I'm sure that must be difficult," Luna said, "have you tried thinking about other things?"

"Yes," she said with a sigh, "I have."

"Oh."

Luna packed away the pieces in silence, ignoring their shouted opposition to the box.

"Here," she said, extending her arm and shaking one of her silvery green bracelets into her hand, "Daddy made these for me after Mummy died, to help with the sadness. It might help you, even."

"I-Luna-I can't -"

She pressed it into Ginny's hand, smiling and shaking her head a little.

"I have another. Besides, you've been a friend to me. That's worth at least as much as a bracelet, any day."

' _Do you think she'd give you the bracelet if she knew the truth?'_

With a feeling like her heart was breaking, Ginny took the bracelet and put it on her wrist.

When she had the dream that night, every single body lining the transient hall was wearing Luna's face.

* * *

"Protego!"

Nothing happened.

She gritted her teeth, focusing all her mind on her wand.

"Protego!"

Nothing happened.

Sweat dotted her forehead, her brain knotted in concentration.

"Protego!"

Nothing happened.

"Please," she whispered, "please. Just work. Just work! Protego!"

She lowered her wand, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

"Protego! Protego! Protego!"

Nothing happened.

A flash of hot rage shot through her, her wand slashing through the air without thought even guiding it.

"Bombarda!"

Her spell collided with a dusty desk, sending up a thick plume of white smoke and blasting the desk into the classroom's far wall where it split in two.

' _Idiot. If someone heard that, they'll wonder what's going on. They'll come. And you were meant to get the shield charm down pat today.'_

"I'm trying," she whispered fearfully, picking up her bag with trembling fingers, "I'm trying!"

' _The simplest and most basic of all shield charms, and you can't even cast it. You can't even beat a Mudblood of your own age every time you duel, and you think that you can be useful to him?'_

She stopped halfway to the door, her body beginning to shake.

"I don't want to be useful, I don't!"

' _Liar. At least admit the truth to yourself. You want to help him. You'll do anything for the chance to hear him again.'_

"I-I-I d-don't! I don't!"

' _Liar. Ungrateful bitch. The very least Tom deserves is for you to admit the truth to yourself. Admit it!'_

She fled, pawing through her bag and searching for the knife as she ran.

* * *

"Ginny, dear," Jasmine drawled, "you simply must tell me what products you use. Your skin is so smooth, and even from here one can tell how soft it is."

Ginny paused and looked down for an instant, her shirt halfway over her chest.

Her skin was good, she had to admit. Better than all of her roommates', even if the rest of their physical features far outshone her own.

Just above her ribs, a tiny strip of pale skin caught her eye.

' _Yeah, my skin's amazing. I give it the best treatments.'_

She barked out a laugh.

"What?" Jasmine asked, confusion making her porcelain face crinkle.

"Nothing," Ginny replied, laughter still bubbling up in her voice, "I don't use anything on it."

' _Except healing charms.'_

"But-"

"It's all natural," Ginny said, trying to imitate Jasmine's oh-so cultured voice, "dear."

' _As if it matters.'_

* * *

"' _Tom,' she wrote, idly licking the end of her quill and watching the ink vanish into the page, 'are you one of those people who think that purebloods are the only real wizards?'_

_His answer appeared a minute later, the words floating up to her._

' _Why do you ask?'_

' _Because you-the way you talk about muggles. And you used the M word yesterday. Dad says that only those crazy purebloods use it, but you did.'_

' _The M word?'_

' _You know, the word for Muggleborns,' she hesitated, shooting a quick glance around the room, 'Mudblood.'_

' _Ah,' he replied, 'that'_

' _Yeah. Well? Are you?'_

' _Ginny, the question does not have as simple as a yes or no answer.'_

' _I don't know what you mean! Dad always says that the people who think that type of thing are evil, but you-I don't know what you're saying!'_

' _I believe,' Tom wrote, 'that all things being equal, the wizard with purely magical ancestors is more worthy of his powers than one whose bloodline has been tainted.'_

' _Dad says-'_

_Before she could even finish writing the sentence, Tom's hurried scrawl appeared._

' _Do you think I'm evil, Ginny?'_

' _Never!'_

_She'd only had the diary for two months, but that was more than enough time to know the answer to that._

' _And yet, I hold beliefs that your father would consider evil. Perhaps, love, this is a subject about which you must make up your own mind, and not simply listen to the decisions of others.'_

' _I-'_

' _Or maybe you are not yet old enough to think about such complex subjects.'_

' _I am,' she wrote indignantly, 'I am!'_

' _Well, then. What makes you think that muggles are anything like us?'_

' _That's silly! They're people.'_

' _What of monkeys? Are they people?'_

' _No. But they can't talk. And they can't build things, or live in houses, or-or have money, or go to the store.'_

' _Funnily enough, it was a group of wizards who created the first languages. It was wizards who helped muggles harness fire and build their first homes. And it was wizards who came up with the most important socio-economic ideas.'_

' _Socio-economic?'_

' _Wizards created the first marketplaces, wizards made the first currencies. Muggles would have stayed no better than apes if not for the intervention of wizards.'_

' _No, dad says that-'_

' _I thought that you were going to think for yourself?'_

' _I am, but it's just not true!'_

' _Do you think I would lie to you, Ginny?'_

' _I-no. But you could be wrong.'_

' _I'm not wrong. And in fact, I will give you a list of books to confirm these facts. If not for the intervention of wizards, muggles would be more readily apparent as the animals they are.'_

' _They're still people, Tom. I told you, they-'_

' _Are goblins people?'_

' _They're-they're goblins.'_

' _Are they people, Ginny?'_

' _They're not people, they're goblins. It's different.'_

' _Why? They talk, they build things, they use money. Why aren't they people?'_

' _They're just not. Dad says they fight a lot, and they're rude and mean, and they hate us.'_

' _Tell me, what is the largest body count from any of the goblin rebellions?'_

' _I don't know.'_

' _All in all, across the entire Europe and over all of the rebellions, less than thirty thousand died. And that is including the goblin casualties. And yet, that is enough for us to collectively recognize the goblins for their warlike selves. How many casualties were there in the First World War?'_

' _A lot?'_

' _More than_ _ **thirty million**_.  _And the second war was being waged when I made this diary. Based on some of your statements, it was even more costly than the first. Tell me, Ginny, when was the last time two wizarding nations declared war? Not individuals seeking power and leading gangs into battle, but nations.'_

' _The 1700's? A few years after the statute of secrecy was put into place, right?'_

' _Exactly. Fewer than a thousand died before peace was brokered. Muggles are uncivilized beasts, with little to no regard for human life. We are their superiors in every way that matters. We should be ruling them, not hiding from them.'_

_Her eyes widened as she read Tom's message, a strange fear rising up within her._

' _That's not right, Tom. It's-'_

' _Tomorrow, you will take me to the library. Perhaps you haven't been paying enough attention during History of Magic.'_

' _What do you want to show me?'_

' _We will begin with the Inquisition and the Malleus Maleficarum. And I will explain to you how it is that the muggles have so ruined our culture, and the steps needed for us to remedy this state of affairs.'_

_Her heart pounding, anxiety thrumming through her, she touched quill to paper._

' _Good night, Tom.'_

' _Good night, Ginny.'_

* * *

"That was a good one," Colin said, his face flushed and his breath still coming in large gulps, "I think that was the longest we've had."

"Yeah. You almost had me, right at the end there. With that Stinging Hex."

He beamed. "Almost. Not quite, but close."

"It's not like I beat you every time we duel," she said, "I'm really not that much better than you."

"Liar. Nine times out of ten, you win."

"That's just because I'm more original than you. You just keep doing the same spells over and over. You need to branch out more."

"Not all of us can just learn dozens of new spells at a time," he said with a shake of the head, "in fact, I'd bet that most people can't!"

She opened her mouth to reply before thinking better of it.

She couldn't exactly tell him that her spell inventory was the result of hours of lonely practice driven by desperate need.

He wouldn't understand. He couldn't.

"So, my parents wrote me today," Colin said, "I am going home for Christmas in the end. In fact, we'll be going to visit my aunt and uncle in Ireland. So I guess this was our last time till next term."

"Oh. I-I thought you were gonna stay."

"I was, because my parents had only saved enough for them and Dennis, my younger brother, to go," he shrugged, "but my aunt and uncle ended up paying for me to come along. Haven't seen them or my cousins in years. Of course, they don't know about magic, so they think I'm at a school for the gifted."

He snorted. "It's gonna be tough to keep that act up."

"Well-I'll try find something about practice dummies. For-for spells we don't want to try on each other."

"Yeah. I was thinking, we could ask Professor McGonagall. We could make it into a real club, get other people to join, and-"

No!"

He blinked at her.

"Uh-"

"I don't think it'll be fun," she said, her mind racing faster than ever, "if we make it into a whole official thing. Like this, when it's just the two of us, it's fun. But with-with more people, it'll be all-all competitive. We'll have to have a teacher here always, we won't be able to do what we want."

Colin looked at her, unsure.

"Listen," she said, "if we get McGonagall involved, she'll want to be supervising us. So it'll have to be according to her times, not ours. It'll-she'll probably stop us from doing anything that she thinks is too advanced, and she'd want to make it a whole club. It won't just be the two of us. It won't-won't be cool anymore."

"But-"

"We're not breaking any school rules or anything," she said quickly, "and I'm not saying that we should lie if anyone asks. I just-I don't want this to become a hangout. I like it, just the two of us."

"You're right," He said. "You know, I joined the photography club for a bit. Left after two weeks. They all took it too seriously."

' _I don't know if I convinced him. This was a terrible idea, I should never have brought someone else along.'_

"Thanks," she said, making up her mind. She pushed herself up on her toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You're a great friend, Colin."

His face went beet-red.

* * *

With almost the entire student body gone for the holidays, Hogwarts was an entirely different place.

The few students that were there had the run of the castle. Besides for Ginny, her brothers, Harry, and Hermione, there were only twenty or so other students there, most of whom were fifth or seventh years.

The first major snowfall of the season coincided with the first night of the holidays.

The next day, of course, saw a Weasley free-for-all snow fight, with Harry joining in.

She took great pleasure in hitting him so hard in the back of the head that he fell over.

She found herself in one of the many empty classrooms, shivering as the melted snow slowly dripped from her clothes.

' _You had your fun. Now it's time to work.'_

"Protego!"

She saw it form, a light-blue shimmer in the air, barely more visible than a heat haze.

"It worked," she said, her voice hushed and reverent, "it worked! I got it! I got it!"

' _And? Is that all you need? Move on and keep practicing.'_

She nodded, the triumph roaring in her veins, the knowledge that she could do anything powering her along.

"Ok. Ok. Ok. The Bone-Breaker. Let's go."

She walked over to one of the desks, extending her left index finger and laying it on the wood.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, excitement and fear boiling in her.

She raised her wand and spoke the incantation.

It wasn't the same type of pain as the pinching or scratching or cutting.

It was dull, a throbbing ache that started at the top of her finger and radiated outward.

In a way, the pain was far worse than anything else she'd done to herself.

Her wand fell from her limp hand as she grabbed her left wrist and began to hop in place, squeezing it between her knees as if that would somehow help.

"Bloody fucking hell. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts."

' _Idiot! Use your wand like a real witch would!'_

She kneeled, her teeth clenched so tightly that her jaw began to ache, tears streaming down her face.

"E-Episkey!"

She felt a curious warmth around her broken finger.

And when it faded, the pain was still there.

' _No, no, it has to work, it has to work!'_

Terrible images flooded her mind, thoughts of all the questions Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall would ask.

Her wand shook so badly that she could barely aim it.

"Episkey!"

' _Useless. Did you really think that the pain would always be something that you wanted? How could you possibly think to fight if you can't heal something as minor as this?'_

"Episkey!"

The warmth coated her finger again, and this time, when it vanished, the pain was gone.

She bent her finger experimentally.

' _This is beyond insane. It's crazy. I almost didn't fix it, what if I can't next time? I need to stop, I need-'_

' _You need Tom. Admit it. Admit you still want to help him. Admit that you want to serve Lord Voldemort.'_

"I don't-I don't, I-'

' _How much longer are you going to keep lying to yourself? Admit it. You've felt nothing but emptiness and pain since Potter killed Tom. You want him back, in whatever form you can get.'_

"No," she whispered, "I have friends, I have-"

' _Friends? Friends who you haven't even told what you really keep thinking about? Friends who you use to keep yourself away from suspicion. Friends who would abandon you in a heartbeat if they even suspected the truth. Your friends are nothing but a weak attempt to distract yourself from the great emptiness within. From the place where Tom used to be.'_

"I-"

' _You had Tom. And there's been no one like him. And except for Voldemort, there never will be. Admit it, at least to yourself. Just admit what you want.'_

She ran from the classroom as if she could leave the voices behind.

* * *

"Ginny? Fancy a game of Gobstones?"

She paused, her hand tightening imperceptibly on the bannister.

She'd searched for Ron, earlier. After she'd showered and sobbed and calmed herself from her thoughts in that empty classroom, she'd gone looking for someone, anyone to help keep her busy, to help keep her away from her thoughts.

Neither Luna nor Colin were in the castle.

She'd debated writing a letter to them, but just the thought of traipsing up to the Owlery sapped her of her energy, killing her motivation before she'd even started.

Besides. If Colin's Muggle  _'animal'_ relatives didn't know that he was magic, he'd have a hard time explaining an owl arriving with a letter tied to its leg.

Percy had been busy with his homework, and she knew that even though he'd told her to interrupt him if it was important, he'd want an explanation for why it was so urgent.

Even if she simply told him that she felt a bit lonely, he'd be writing to her mother as soon as he wasn't keeping her company any longer.

Fred and George were nowhere to be found.

Ron had been flying over the snow covered grounds with Harry bloody Potter.

With no one else to keep her distracted, she'd ended up in the Common Room, reading through her Charms textbook and trying to ignore the war going on in her mind.

She sat near the crackling fire for nearly half an hour, her body steadily growing shakier, her hands itching, the battle in her head growing louder and more insistent.

Until eventually, she lost, turning her mind to the silver knife in the bag next to her bed and the only way she knew to silence the voice.

And now that she was halfway up the staircase to her room, Percy decided to pitch.

"No thanks," she said, turning a smile to him and raising her hand as if to stifle a yawn, "I just wanted to have a nap before supper, otherwise I'll pass out in the food."

"Yeah," Percy said, "you look exhausted. Want me to wake you?"

"I thought you can't come up to our dorm?"

He fingered his badge, a grin flashing across his face.

"Well, if I'm still not down twenty minutes before dinner, wake me up, please"

He glanced at his watch, his eyebrows rising.

"That's in nearly three hours. You sure you'll be able to sleep tonight if you do that?"

"It's the holidays, Perce. Besides, I want to take a shower and read a little. I'll probably be awake long before then, but just in case…"

"Enjoy," He said, shoving the box under his arm and turning away, mumbling something about Ron to himself.

Her steps quickened as she walked to her room, her smile falling away.

She closed the curtains around her bed, shrugging out of her top and pulling her robes back before raising the knife with a shaking hand and staring down at her chest.

Her breasts had definitely grown over the past few weeks.

Once, she'd have been over the moon to see the visible signs of her body changing from that of a girl to one of a woman.

Now she saw it and felt nothing but loathing.

She lowered the knife, feeling its cold seductive edge against the curves of her skin.

The large vein in her wrist drew her eye.

She stared at it, wondering how it would look if she cut there instead. What it would feel like as her lifeblood left her.

One move of the knife and it would all be over.

One move of the knife and she'd be free.

Her vision blurred, tears flooding down her face as she lowered the knife again.

' _Stop! Don't do this, I can't do this, go to Percy-'_

' _And tell him what? That you're too cowardly to even tell yourself the truth, and so you want to die? That you're too weak to go on living?'_

' _This is what Tom wanted! He wanted me to die, he-'_

' _He only wanted you to die so that he could live. Harry stole that from you.'_

"I-I-I don't want to-to d-die," she sobbed, "but I-"

' _But what? You told Tom that you'd die for him. You told him that you'd do anything for him. Why not try living for him?'_

"Th-that's what I'm doing! What more do you want?"

' _I want you to admit the truth to yourself. Admit that you want to serve Tom. Admit that if the chance ever comes up, you'll help Lord Voldemort however you can. Admit it, and make yourself someone who can actually help him."_

"N-no, no, no. I'd rather-rather die! I don't want to be one of those people, I don't!"

' _How much longer will you keep lying to yourself? You want it. You want it more than anything. You dream of him every night, you think of him all of the time. You'll never be happy without him. Not like you were when you had him. You'll never be complete.'_

"I don't want him!"

' _Liar. Even just thinking about him makes you happy. You want him.'_

"I don't!"

She pressed down on the knife, feeling it beginning to bite into her.

' _Or you can take the coward's way out. Tom was wrong about you. He said that you were brave. He must have been wrong.'_

"He was evil," she sobbed "evil."

' _Good and evil are just meaningless words. Didn't your father always tell you to trust your heart? What does your heart say?'_

"It-it-"

' _Everything you feel is telling you that you want Tom. You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't. Just admit it. You'll be happier if you do.'_

She sat there, tears running down her face as she applied a tiny amount of pressure to the blade on her wrist, feeling like she was teetering at the edge of a cliff.

' _Don't you want to be happy again? Like you were when you had him?'_

She raised the knife, a few tiny droplets of blood breaking the surface of her wrist.

Then, with a soft cry, she slashed it down, cutting into her arm just below the shoulder.

She raised it, slashing it down and slicing into her skin. She raised it and sliced again, and again, and again.

She carved at her arm until all the thoughts fell silent, until her heart began to slow down and her hands stopped their trembling.

When she was finished, it looked like she had stuck her arm into a bucket of red paint.

She was panting, feeling more alive than she thought she ever had before.

The tears had dried in streaks on her face, just as the blood was beginning to dry on her body.

And for once, her mind was clear.

"I will do whatever I can," she said, "if the-the chance to help Lord V-V-Voldemort ever comes up. I'll-I'll be a-a Death Eater, if-if that's what he wants."

' _And you will make yourself into someone who can help him, won't you?'_

"That's-that's what I've been doing!"

' _Not entirely. Tom didn't just say that you don't know enough combat magic to help him. He said that you don't know enough of the Dark Arts. You need to learn more of those. And to do that, you need the Restricted Section. And for that, you need the help of someone who can sneak inside there. And you need a way to convince them. You need to make them want to help you.'_

She nodded, raising her wand and siphoning the blood into the glass she kept beside her bed.

The cuts may have looked bad, but in her frenzy she hadn't been going for depth, only for numbers.

The cuts were bad because there were dozens of them, but none of them were anywhere near the deepest or largest she'd ever done.

As she set to cleaning herself up and healing her arm, she whispered to herself.

"I'll find a way to get Fred and George to help me."

From the corner in her mind where that voice lurked, she felt nothing but satisfaction. It was such a relief for her head to be so quiet.

* * *

"Hey, guys? Can I speak to you for a minute?"

The twins turned as one, identical smiles appearing on their faces.

"Look, Fred. It's our sister. And she's searching us out. I wonder if she wants to help,"

"Can't be," Fred said, "she's too busy racing Hermione through the library to help us."

He paused, raising an eyebrow and nodding at George.

"Unless...Ginny, have you seen Peeves anywhere?"

"Peeves?"

"Indeed. You know, tiny little spirit of mischief and trouble, wears a hat sometimes."

"A noble soul," George said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes, "the best of examples for all of the budding young minds in these hallowed halls of education."

"I think I saw him after breakfast," she said, "He was annoying some of the portraits on the fourth floor. But what-"

"Do we want with him? You can help, if you like."

"Promises to be fun," Fred said, "you see, we discovered a stash of bat repellent, and we thought, well. Who do we know that's brave enough to spray it all over our Potions Professor's office?"

"And of course, the only answer to spring to mind was our dear friend and hero."

"Why don't you guys just do it yourselves?"

"The last time we interfered with Snape, he promised us-"

"Lots of things that aren't fit for the ears of an innocent young girl," George said. "And since he's Snape, we're half-convinced that he'll actually carry out his threats, even if it did earn him a trip to Azkaban."

"And someone would probably try to give him an exorcism. But still. He's Snape."

"And Peeves just does favours for you guys?"

George held up a duffel bag.

"It helps if you bribe him." He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "give him enough Dungbombs and fireworks and he'll even brave the Bloody Baron!"

"And you have to do something to annoy Filch," Fred added, "Usually that's easy enough, but we've come up with a doozy of an idea, something that'll really get Peeves excited."

"What?" She asked, interested despite herself.

"Now now, little sister. We don't give away all of our secrets like that. In fact, we usually wouldn't invite anyone alongside us on such an important mission, besides for maybe Lee. Still, we could always make an exception for our flesh and blood. Want to join?"

A part of her wanted nothing more than to simply cast aside her plans and follow them.

But she had decided.

She shook her head.

"Ok then," Fred said, "not to be rude, but we are in the middle of a plan of epic proportions. What exactly did you want?"

She looked at them, her heart beginning to race.

' _This is never going to work.'_

"You guys said you'd help me, if I ever needed anything, right?"

They nodded, humour vanishing from their faces.

"Do-do you know a way to sneak into the Restricted Section?"

"Pretty much everything in there is seriously Dark," Fred asked slowly, "What do you want in there?"

"I just-I need to-to look some things up."

"Sorry Ginny," George said, "but you of all people should know just how dangerous books can be. Those aren't fun browsing material. Some of them are cursed, and if you don't know exactly what you need, it's best not to just wander around in there."

"Besides, if you get caught, it really won't look good, after everything that happened."

"If it's really that urgent, you tell us what you need and we'll get it for you."

"I don't know exactly which book it I need," she said, "I'll-I'll need to look around a little."

They shook their heads.

"Ginny, we'd-"

"Everything on possession is in there," she blurted out, "not in the regular library."

Fred stopped talking, his mouth hanging open for a second. Ginny paused before continuing, hoping the nonsense she was about to spout would be enough to convince them.

"I just-I need to know how he-how he did it," she babbled, "I can't-I keep remembering it, and I-it's over, but I need to know! If I knew how it w-works, I could-I could fight it. I could know that if-if ever needed to, I'd be able to fight it."

"Ginny." George said gently, "you don't need to worry about-"

"I know I don't! But at the same time, I still do! I need to-to know that I've done everything I can! I can't-can't explain it. But I-I need to know."

She rubbed her eyes, their faces swimming back into clarity, hope springing up in her.

' _This has to work, this has to work! I need it to work!'_

They were both staring at her, Fred with a clenched jaw, George with a stricken look.

"McGonagall, she didn't understand, she said I just need to move on. But I-I can't, I need to know first, I need to know everything I can before I can move on. Before it'll really be over. Everything else about what happened, I can understand it and-and move on. But there's a bit more that I just-just need to know."

' _Come on! They can't say no, not after that!'_

"George," Fred said, "Let's have a chat."

They walked a few meters down the hallways and stopped, putting their heads close to each other and muttering.

' _It will work. You'll see. They won't be able to resist that. Tom would have been proud.'_

She still felt jittery, her tears starting to form again. But a smile kept trying to split her lips.

They walked back to her a few minutes later, both of them still wearing those deadly serious expressions.

"You promise that's all you want from there?" Fred asked.

"I promise."

"And you promise that you'll only go with us?" George asked, "You won't go sneaking around there on your own?"

"I promise," She repeated, "I swear I won't."

"We'll go tonight," Fred said, "meet in the Common Room around eleven. Less chance of Pince or Percy wandering around then."

She jumped up, seizing him in a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Why did you wait till now to ask us?" Fred said as she released him and threw her arms around George.

She let go of George, wiping her eyes again.

"I thought I could find what I needed in the library," she said, "and I-I didn't want to make you guys worry."

"We're your big brothers, Ginny. It's our job to worry about you."

In the back of her mind, a part of her wailed, while another part burst into raucous laughter at their earnest, caring faces.

"Thanks," she said, "really."

"We did say that we'd help you. Eleven tonight, in the Common Room. See you then."

' _Tom would have been proud. He will be, when you tell him one day.'_

"I hope so," she muttered, turning around and heading back to her dorm with a spring in her step.


	6. Interlude I

"And that," Albus said, pulling something from his desk drawer, "brings us to Miss Weasley. Care for a humbug before we continue?"

Minerva sighed. Bad enough that even three days after Christmas Albus still insisted on wearing the ridiculous hat he'd received in a cracker, but "Albus," she said, "that is the third time in the last twenty minutes you've offered me one. I already told you I don't like the flavour."

His eyes sparkled as he unwrapped it and tossed the candy into his mouth.

"Indeed. The problem, of course, is that if no one else helps then I will have no choice but to eat them all myself, and that can only wreak havoc on my digestive system."

"One, Albus," she said, "if only to keep you from rattling that bag at me for the rest of this meeting."

He beamed and passed her one.

"Now," He said, "when last we discussed her, you said that you had been seeing an upswing in Miss Weasley's social activities. Is this state of affairs still continuing?"

"It is. She still seems to be limiting her company to that of either Luna Lovegood or Colin Creevey, but she appears to be spending quite a fair amount of her time with them."

"Lovely. I have noticed her a few times with one of those two. With Mr Creevey during meals, often, or walking with Miss Lovegood."

She coughed, the burning taste of the humbug sneaking into her sinuses and settling there.

Bloody peppermint.

"One of my students had the nerve to complain about Ginny inviting Luna into the Gryffindor Common Room," she said, "I set them straight, of course."

"Yes. Ginevra has not formed a close bond with her roommates, has she?"

"They're acquaintances," she said with a grimace, "to be frank, I would be surprised if they became bosom buddies. The Woodworth girls have drawn McLaggen into their social circle, and none of them are the type of people the Weasleys ever had much to do with."

Albus chuckled lightly, his hat wobbling on his head.

"I would say not. But there have been no issues between them?"

"None."

"What of her nightmares?"

"If they are still continuing, they are minimal," she said. "She says that she rarely suffers them, and none of her roommates have mentioned anything of the sort, not to me or to any of the prefects."

"Indeed a hopeful sign. I assume that she never took Remus up on his offer?"

"No. And while she seems more comfortable with me, she still avoids talking about the events of last year."

Albus frowned, absentmindedly reaching out and stroking Fawkes.

"Whenever I meet with her," Minerva continued, "I get the feeling that she's holding something back. That she's not telling me everything that's going on in her mind."

"Really, Minerva? A teenager not revealing their innermost feelings to an authority figure?"

"It just...unnerves me, slightly. I can't make her talk, I've seen that much. I just hope that whatever she's keeping hidden, it's not hurting her."

"Doubtless," Albus said, "it is the fact that she still feels some sort of attachment, perhaps, to the memory of Tom Riddle."

She looked up sharply, catching his eye.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm certain there are still some remnants of her positive feelings for him. Feelings that have tormented her since she came to know who he truly was."

"You can't mean she still cares for him," she said, feeling sickened at the very thought, "I-"

"I would be very surprised if none of those emotions lingered," he interrupted, "remember, Minerva, she had that diary for the better part of a year. A year spent sharing her deepest emotions with the memory of a highly charismatic, incredibly skilled manipulator. Not to mention the enchantments on the diary itself, enchantments set to induce devotion and obsession."

"You said that those enchantments were no longer affecting her," she said, trying and failing to keep an accusatory tone from her voice.

"If you recall, I said that there were lingering shards of the enchantments which I believed would fade in time."

He held up a hand, forestalling her next comment.

"I still do not think that I was in error. But the fact remains that he had tied her sense of devotion and worth to him. There is no additional damage being done to her, but all the harm he had already caused did not simply vanish with him. The injuries he inflicted on her soul still need to heal, and while it seems they are in the process of doing so, we would have to be as reckless as Crispin Cronk when he decided his backyard was the perfect location for Sphinx breeding to assume that they are completely healed."

"She needs more help than I can give, Albus. I know I'm an excellent teacher, but getting the children to open up has never been my forte."

"What she needs, is to know that the staff here care about her and that if she desires, she can be open with us. She needs to spend time with friends just like a normal child."

"And that's exactly what we are already giving her."

"Correct. Of course, we must still keep an open eye. Students have been known to hide away severe problems in the past. Nevertheless, I believe Miss Weasley is well on her way to recovery."

"I hope you're right, Albus."

"I usually am. Now, let's discuss Mr Longbottom."

He stuck his hand into the drawer again.

She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Molly put down her needles and picked up the jumper, critically examining the G embossed on the front.

The wireless was off, Arthur's voice filling the room instead.

She picked up her wand, waving it over the sweater and tying off a few loose threads.

Since she'd first continued her mother's tradition of making Christmas jumpers for her children, she'd followed her mother's footsteps in using no magic in the actual creation of the garment.

It was a small gesture, one she was all but certain her children didn't notice, and yet it made the whole process something far more personal, an act replete with genuine care and love.

The work of her own two hands, each stitch imbued with her love for her children.

One day, she knew, Ginny would be making Christmas jumpers for her own children, continuing a tradition that Molly knew to be at least four generations old.

At least, she hoped that Ginny would one day continue the tradition.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at it, her heart aching at the reminder that this conglomeration of wool would be the only piece of her spending Christmas with her daughter.

"...and a very happy Christmas. Your loving son, Percy. Well," Arthur said, putting down the letter, "sounds like everything's going well in Hogwarts."

She didn't reply, continuing to stare at the jumper as her sorrow overflowed, sending tears trailing down her face.

"Molly?" Arthur asked, sounding alarmed, "what's wrong?"

"I hate this," she whispered.

"She's doing well, Molly," he said gently, "all of the boys say so, and so do the staff. She's getting better."

"I know. But I hate that we have to hear it from them. I hate that-that I can't just pick her up and give her a hug, like when she was little and had hurt herself. I hate that there's nothing I can do."

The tears came faster now, a lump building up inter back of her throat.

"I haven't felt so helpless since-since Gideon and Fabian. There's nothing I can do, Arthur. And I hate it."

"It's natural to feel that way," he said, "but you need to focus on how far she's come instead of thinking about what she went through."

"I know. I know. But I-we shouldn't have to worry about her, not like this. We shouldn't have to hope that she's actually doing as well as it sounds, we shouldn't have her brothers keeping tabs on her. We shouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

"We shouldn't," he agreed, "but we are. And one day, maybe we'll have a Minister who cares more about the people than about lining his pockets, and then Lucius Malfoy will pay."

"I just wish that there was something I could do!" She cried, "instead of just letting her deal with it herself."

"Molly," he said, moving closer and taking her hand, "she's doing well. Very well. That's what you need to think about. If you let yourself get into thoughts about what you wished we could do, it'll just make you feel worse."

She seized a nearby handkerchief, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

"I think," she said, "that we must get to Diagon tomorrow."

"We already did the Christmas shopping…"

"I know. But I'd like to get Ginny something extra. Even just something small like a few more chocolates. Just something."

"That could work. Or the updated copy of Quidditch Through the Ages."

He shrugged at her questioning look.

"The longest letter she's written to us was the one talking about the game. If she doesn't at least try and join the team one day, I'll get a brass wand."

"I think you're right," Molly said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "she'll appreciate it."

"I hope so."

"I'm sorry for being so-so dramatic. I shouldn't be so worried."

"Dear, you're her mother. You're meant to worry. Just remember, she's getting better."

"Yes," Molly said, a more genuine smile than her last attempt spreading across her face, "she's moving past it."


	7. Second Year, Part five

Christmas break at Hogwarts was like nothing Ginny had ever experienced.

True, she had been there the previous year. Her memories of that time, however, were all fragmented and misty, jumbled up with all the terrible anxiety and confused feelings she'd been suffering.

This year, though, it was amazing.

The feast itself had been incredible, every bit as marvellous as her brothers had always described it. The food had been far beyond her expectations, and for once the voices in her head had all been silent, letting her enjoy the wonderful atmosphere.

She'd gone to bed quite early on Christmas Eve and had woken up to a neat mound of presents beside her bed, far more than she'd thought she'd be receiving.

There was a new set of pyjamas from Jasmine and Priscilla, with a note explaining how they'd noticed that she was growing out of her old pair.

Being in far too good of a mood for the condescending nature of their letter to bother her, she'd simply folded the pyjamas and placed them under her pillow.

From Evelyn, she'd gotten a quite lovely makeup kit. It was a small box roughly the size of her palm, and it unfolded to be almost as big as her torso; containing blush and foundation, dozens of colours of eyeliner, nail polish and lipstick, skin lotion, a set of brushes and combs, a shaving razor, and a mirror that gave fashion advice.

She had to admit that as much as she didn't care about fashion as the other girls did, it was a touching gift. It couldn't have come cheap, and the note with it at least sounded like something a normal person would say, unlike the Woodworths' one.

She'd gotten three bottles of perfume from Bill, and a new set of dragonhide gloves from Charlie.

Percy had bought her a new gobstones set, the twins had given her a bag of fireworks and dungbombs with a note saying that their gift was in case she ever needed bribery material, and Ron had bought her an assortment of chocolates.

From Colin, she'd gotten a book entitled  _Curses and Counter Curses,_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

It was when she was reading Colin's letter that her emotions returned in full force, guilt, pain, and fear beginning to war within her.

" _Hey, Ginny,"_  it read,  _"hope this gets to you in time. Had to send it through the Muggle post, and I don't know how long it takes before it gets transferred to the wizards who work with it. Hope you're having a good time at Hogwarts, it must be pretty cool having the castle (practically) to yourself. It's great here in Belfast, we haven't seen any snow, but the weatherman says we will next week. It's funny being here with my cousins, I keep almost saying something about the wizarding world, and just catching myself in time. Course, they don't know what I'm on about when I do mess up, so I just pretend like I'm talking about books or something, cause neither of them like reading much. It's actually weird, how much I've forgotten about what it's like to not know about magic. Even at home we still talk about it, so we're not completely separate. Here, though, it's like another planet. Still a lot of fun, even if watching football's boring after seeing a Quidditch match._

_Anyway, I hope you like the book. I got one too, when we went to London to buy presents before heading over here. I left mine at home though. I'm sure by the time I get back you'll be able to do every one of those spells!_

_Have a happy Christmas, and looking forward to seeing you again._

_Love,_

_Colin."_

She found herself reading the letter again, rubbing her fingers over where he'd written his name with tears in her eyes.

' _So the Mudblood loves you. That's good. It makes it less likely for him to tell anyone about your practising.'  
_

She shook her head, trying to banish the voice.

She didn't want to think of Colin with that word, no matter how much Tom would have approved. She didn't want to turn her friendship with him into nothing more than a way for her to perfect her spellcasting abilities.

But she'd made up her mind about Tom.

' _So? Just because I said I'd-I'd help him, doesn't mean I have to think that about Colin. Does it?'_

Her pleasant mood quickly evaporating, she pulled the next present from the pile.

" _Dear Ginny,"_ the letter said,  _"I hope that Christmas has been special and that there haven't been too many Nargles around. There always are this time of year, because they breed in mistletoe. Daddy says that's where the custom of kissing under it comes from, because Nargles don't like displays of affection. I've just been at home with Daddy, although we did go for a lovely walk on the hills. We spotted what looked like the spoor of a_ _Graphorn_ _, although we didn't see the creature itself. Daddy says it's a sign of good luck for the coming year, so I hope that includes you also, because I was thinking about you._

_We also saw a family of_ _Mokes_ _, but they shrunk before I could take a picture of them._

_I saw your parents the other day. They seemed very happy, especially when I told them that you're my best friend._

_I hope you like my present. I carved it myself, although Daddy helped with the charms._

_Please say hello to The Grey Ghost for me, and to the painting of the unicorn and Sylvena the Strange on the third floor._

_Love,_

_Your friend,_

_Luna Lovegood._

_P.S. The cookie is meant to be eaten on New Year's Eve."_

Along with the letter, Luna had sent two photographs, one of which appeared to be the Graphorn's spoor, (although on closer inspection, Ginny decided it was actually a rock) and one of an empty patch of grass where Ginny assumed the Mokes had been before they shrunk.

She'd also sent a single biscuit in the shape of the letter G, and a wooden statue. Looking at the statue Ginny had to blink away tears as her breath caught in her throat.

It was about ten inches high and perfectly carved, showing a rendering of two girls standing hand in hand.

Her and Luna's faces were depicted in perfect detail on the wood, both of them smiling brightly.

When she carefully placed it on her bedside table, the statue moved, the two girls hugging tightly before taking each other's hands again and skipping around the table.

She let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

' _What would she say if she knew what I had decided?'_

She turned away from the heartbreakingly precious sight, grabbing at the last of the big packages.

It was her jumper, the electric blue G on it standing out against the black wool.

A small book fell out of the wrapping along with a bag of homemade baked goods.

She picked up her parents' letter with trembling hands, tearing the envelope as she opened it.

" _Dear Ginny,_

_We can't even begin to explain how proud we are of you. The challenges you faced in your first year at Hogwarts were greater than most adults ever go through, and you came out of them with your head held high. There are few things that make a parent happier than seeing their child succeed through a hard experience, and you've made us the happiest parents in the world._

_We love you so much, and just hope that this coming year is one of good times, joy, and peace._

_Keep on doing what you are, we're with you all the way._

_All our love,_

_Mum and Dad."_

By the time she reached the end of her parents' letter, the parchment was fluttering and damp from her shaking hands and falling tears.

Clamping her teeth together to keep the wail from escaping, she snatched the knife from her bag and ran to the bathroom.

* * *

She raised her head quickly enough to make her neck click, focusing on the noise she had just heard.

She stayed perfectly still, her muscles tense, coiled to close the book and run with everything she had.

After a silent minute, she exhaled, still keeping her ears pricked up.

Nothing.

Slowly, her heart went back to its normal speed, and she returned her attention to the book before her.

The Dark Arts, as she'd come to learn, did not refer to a single subject.

There were dozens of different streams of magic grouped together under the same broad title, as different from and as connected to one another as Herbology and Astronomy.

Most of the books in the Restricted Section were meant for reference, either for NEWT students or for the professors themselves.

Almost all of them seemed to assume that she would know far more than she did. Not just in their own subject, but in the theories of other subjects as well.

Still, she was slowly making some sense of it. Over the course of the holidays she'd taken advantage of the mostly empty Hogwarts, spending as much time as she thought she could get away with in the Restricted Section.

She was, she had to admit, lucky that the twins had actually taken her there instead of just telling her how to sneak in. They'd been incredibly helpful, showing her sections of shelving that were filled, they said, with books that would scream or otherwise alert Madam Pince that someone unauthorized was using them.

They'd both looked quite embarrassed, actually, when they had pointed that out, leading her to wonder how many times they'd been caught in there before they'd figured out which books to avoid.

She sighed, writing a note to herself on the piece of parchment beside the book.

The more time she spent in there, the more she realized how little she actually knew.

' _Tom was right when he said I didn't know enough. I can barely understand any of this!'_

She turned the page, flinching at the gruesome image that greeted her.

It showed a man hanging upside down in mid-air, blood dripping from a cut in his throat and falling into a boiling cauldron below him.

' _I don't even know what half of these ingredients are! How the hell am I ever gonna be able to help him like this?'_

' _Tom said that you need to be a soldier for him. So until you learn how to do this type of thing, focus on spells that you could use in a fight.'_

She closed the book gently, nodding as she placed it back on the shelf.

Her new gloves were still a bit itchy, but she had no choice except to wear them. Fred and George had been at their most serious when they told her to bring them, the first time they went in. They'd said that some of the books could damage someone who tried to take them without permission and that it was safest to be protected in there.

' _Would they have helped me if they even suspected why I really wanted to get in?'_

' _Why do you care? Is telling the truth to them nearly as important as helping Tom?'_

She bit her lip, her footsteps halting as she reached the shelves she wanted.

The shelves on curses.

An image of the book Colin had sent her swam before her eyes for a second, filling her with shame.

Her hand stopped halfway to the shelf.

' _Do you really feel bad about what a stupid Mudblood would think?'_

' _He's my friend.'_

' _Your Mudblood wouldn't want you to look at these books, true. But Tom would. If you had looked at them earlier, maybe you could have actually helped Tom.'_

With tears running down her face, she pulled the book from the shelf.

* * *

"Facerus Timor!"

A fine greyish-black mist erupted from her wand, spreading out as it moved forward into the classroom.

It didn't get too far before dissipating, growing thinner and fainter as it went before vanishing entirely.

She lowered her wand, sweat dripping down her face, feeling exultant.

Unless she was very much mistaken, she'd just managed to cast what one of the books had described as the Curse of Terror, a spell that would send horrific, inexplicable surges of fear through anyone hit by the mist, clouding their minds and making thought impossible.

It wasn't necessarily good in a fight, the book said, because it didn't last too long and because it had an easy countercurse, one which apparently worked on boggarts as well.

Still, she felt quite proud of herself. It was the first time she'd managed one of the spells she'd copied from the books in the Restricted Section.

' _So? Are you going to revel in your triumph or actually continue?'_

She nodded, rubbing her eyes over the next spell in her list.

"Praefoco!"

Her wand made a barking noise, shooting out a sickly smelling cloud of gas.

She coughed, flapping her hands in front of her face and trying not to breathe in the smoke.

' _Clearly wrong. Try again.'_

As soon as the air cleared, she raised her wand again.

"Praefoco!"

The cloud was much thicker the second time, and stunk horrifically, burning her nostrils as she inhaled it.

She dropped to her knees, covering her mouth and nose with a hand and fighting the urge to vomit.

She stood up on shaky legs, her mouth feeling dry and sore.

' _I must be getting something wrong. I'll need to check it up again.'_

She trudged out of the empty classroom with a sigh, heading back up to the painting on the fourth floor which hid a secret passageway behind it.

' _This is all going to be much more difficult once term starts. Won't have as much free time, won't be able to sneak around as easily. I'm going to have to only go at nights, once everyone's asleep. Can't go too often, otherwise I'll be exhausted all the time. Damnit, it's going to get so much harder.'_

' _Better make the most of it now.'_

* * *

The night before term started again, she lay in bed, shivering and staring at the statue Luna had given her with teary eyes.

The wooden girls were whispering to one another, gesturing realistically and speaking the gibberish that Luna's father had enchanted them with.

None of what they said sounded like it was English, or any other language Ginny had ever heard for that matter. Their laughter, however, sounded real.

They laughed often, the wooden Ginny and Luna. Laughed and danced and pranced around.

She stared at them and wept, every sound of joy from them an icicle stabbing her in the heart.

Their innocent, unadulterated happiness mocked her more brutally than any of her roommates ever had. Neither of those two wooden girls ever had to think about such horrible things as she did. Neither of them had to cast spell after spell, gripping their wands tightly and practising for so long that blisters formed on their fingers.

Neither of those girls had to think about Tom until they sobbed, wishing that they'd never met him and wishing that they didn't still love him.

Neither of those girls had decided that they would kill for him one day, if only to be able to bask in his presence once more.

Those girls were as fake as the theories in Luna's father's magazine, as made-up as half of the animals Luna mentioned.

She wished she could believe in them.

She stared at the thick vein in her wrist and wished that she'd been strong enough to slice it, wished that she'd been strong enough to argue with that voice in her head that sounded so much like Tom.

Those girls were a wispy dream, one that she'd cast aside when she admitted that she would still do anything for Tom.

Neither of those girls was a monster like her.

Eventually, a restless sleep took her, the usual dream of bodies in the Great Hall and Tom's lips on hers coming to call.

Except this time, when she stood among the corpses, she looked at what she had wreaked and laughed.

* * *

A month after the term had started again, Ginny found herself more tired than she thought she'd ever been before.

With the return of classes, she'd quickly fallen into an exhausting routine; spending one of her breaks in the visible company of either Luna or Colin or otherwise hanging out in the Common Room, and spending the rest of her free time in the library or slowly working her way through her list of spells.

Her nights were likewise full. At least twice a week she found herself sneaking out after curfew and carefully making her way to the secret passageway to the Restricted Section, where she would often spend close to two hours reading things she'd already been through.

Much as she was spending time with the books, most of what she read was still far beyond her.

Of the scores of pages of theory on Necromancy, Rituals, and Curses that she had read, she figured she understood maybe a few paragraphs worth.

Part of the problem was that she was only a second year. The books kept referencing ideas that she'd never even heard of before, let alone mastered.

The other, far more fundamental problem, was that the books in the Hogwarts Library, even in the Restricted Section, were not meant as a how-to guide on the Dark Arts. They were, she came to realize, all about countering the actions of Dark Wizards, or preventing their crimes in the first place.

If they described a ritual or a spell, it was only to teach someone how to recognize it and ruin it, not to help do it.

Of course, when it came to the spells themselves, the books were far more explanatory. They often showed the full wand movements needed, as well as giving precise descriptions of the incantations themselves.

But as she'd discovered after her disastrous attempts at the Choking Curse, Dark Curses often required a specific emotion to accompany a successful casting of them, and the books did not necessarily give those.

She'd only even learned that fact from a small footnote in one of the theory books, in the section about the Unforgivables.

She often left the Library in a state of total frustration, with dozens of new spells that she knew she probably wouldn't be able to cast properly added to her list.

Her attempts at teaching herself the Dark Arts might have been fruitless, but she still couldn't stop herself from forcing her aching legs out of bed once her room had filled with gentle snores.

She couldn't stop herself, not if she wanted the voices to stay calm, not if she wanted to at least feel like she was doing something for Tom.

As much as she sometimes may have wished that she could.

Useless as her time in the Restricted Section was, it did come with some unexpected benefits.

For one, her marks had steadily risen until she was in the top few students in most of her subjects. It shouldn't have been surprising, really, what with the amount of time she spent trying to understand stuff far beyond her capabilities.

It wasn't surprising, in fact. It was just something that she hadn't thought about. Something she didn't care about, really.

Professor McGonagall's compliments may have put a genuine smile on her face, but one day she'd get praise from Tom again, and that would put a smile on her whole world.

The bigger and more important benefit to her intense routine was the calming of her mind.

The busier she kept herself, she found, the less pressure built up within her. She'd gone a full five days without needing to use the knife, and her nightmares had been coming less frequently.

Anything would have been worth it for that.

* * *

She tore a piece of toast in half, tossing it carelessly into the lake.

A cold wind blew her hair back, making her scarf fly into her eyes for a second.

Luna giggled as she pulled it down, clearing her eyes just in time to see the tentacles pulling her bread beneath the surface.

"Hermione's cat ate Ron's rat yesterday," she said. "Ron's furious."

"That's what cats do," Luna says with a shrug, "it was probably quite an adventure for the poor rat."

"It's so stupid. Scabbers was the stupidest pet ever. He did nothing but sleep all day. And now Ron and Hermione aren't talking. It's so stupid."

"People do silly things when they're upset. I'm sure your brother will get over it."

"It was just a stupid rat," she grumbled, "not like it's anything important. From the way Ron's going on, you'd think the cat actually hurt him."

"I'm sure his rat was important to him," Luna said in an annoyingly sensible tone, "what did you say about it all?"

"I told him he was being an idiot and that it didn't matter."

"Oh. That was a bit insensitive of you, I think."

She turned to Luna, her mouth dropping open.

She was being insensitive?

Ron sat there day after day, chumming around with the boy who had ruined her life, not caring enough to even notice the pain and suffering she was going through.

Ron was crying over a bloody rat as if it was something that actually mattered, and she was the insensitive one?

' _She doesn't know. I need to tell her. If there's anyone at all who I could tell, it's her.'_

' _Naive little girl. She'd run away before you even finished the first sentence. If by some miracle she didn't immediately go to Dumbledore, you know damn well that she'd never look at you again, let alone talk to you. Tell her and the best case scenario is that she hates you.'_

' _I deserve to be hated.'_

' _You deserve to be with Tom, and Harry took that from you.'_

The burning need arose within her, her right hand clenching automatically even as the shaking gripped her.

She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that it would just go away.

' _It's been two weeks!'_ She told herself,  _'two weeks! I can manage without it! I don't need it!'_

' _Maybe you just need it once every two weeks, when everything gets too much.'_

' _I don't! I don't!'_

' _Don't you? It's not like you deserve anything better. You probably should tell Luna. You don't deserve to have her as a friend anyways.'_

"I think I'm going mad," she whispered.

Luna's giggle made her open her eyes, to see the Giant Squid taking yet another piece of toast.

"I'm sorry," Luna said, "did you say something?"

She looked into Luna's face, all lit up with joy.

"No," she replied, "nothing important."

* * *

For the second time, she lay in the Great Hall, staring at the enchanted ceiling and thinking about Sirius Black.

He'd been looking for Harry, that much was obvious.

So why did he run?

He must have known that he was in the right room, so why didn't he just kill Ron quickly and move on to find Harry's bed?

Wasn't that what he wanted? Revenge on Harry, for being the one to do whatever he had to Voldemort?

Wasn't that what she wanted?

' _I don't know.'_

' _Liar. You do know. You wish you could see Harry suffer the way you are.'_

A shudder ran through her at the thought, a solitary tear falling from her eye and making its way down her cheek.

' _I don't. I don't want to hurt anyone. All I want is to be happy again.'_

' _You'll never be happy without Tom.'_

' _I was happy before I met him.'_

' _You were ignorant.'_

' _I was still happy.'_

' _Were you?'_

She cast her mind back, trying to focus on what life had been like before she'd found the diary.

It was like trying to grasp at fog. She could remember events, things that she'd done or said or heard.

But she couldn't remember what she'd felt, back in her day-to-day life.

She knew that she hadn't felt that indescribable empty sorrow, the one that had sat in her chest like a bowling ball since Harry killed Tom.

But whether she'd been as happy as once she had Tom, that she couldn't recall.

' _I still don't want to hurt anyone. I don't have to, I just want to help Tom. That's all.'_

' _Idiot. Tom already told you the only way you can help him. You need to be a soldier for him.'_

' _I don't-'_

' _Or are you going to betray him again?'_

Her muscles tensed as the remembered agony shot through her, her teeth slamming shut over a scream.

' _Never. I'll never do that, not again.'_

As the hundreds of students around her stopped their whispered conversations and fell asleep, she lay awake.

She lay awake until the sky began to brighten, wondering if she would one day be the one standing over a teenager's bed with a knife.

* * *

"' _Ok,' she wrote, watching as the words sunk into the page, 'I still think that you're wrong about Muggles. But even if you're not, what's wrong with Muggleborns? They're witches and wizards, just like you and me.'_

_She leaned back in her bed, waiting for Tom's response and stifling a yawn._

_Since she'd challenged him about muggles, he'd had her spend hours reading up on history, all about horrific subjects like the Witch Hunts and the Inquisition. It was only with his help that she was even barely managing to keep up with her homework, and even then she'd had to stay up really late a few times frantically writing essays._

_It was probably just because of her late nights and busy days, but the last few nights she'd had weird dreams, and had even been sleepwalking once._

_If she didn't think it was so important to discuss this with Tom right now, she'd probably have just followed her roommates' examples and been asleep already._

_She barely felt her heart rate begin to rise as his writing appeared._

' _Hardly like you and me, Ginny, but the essential point is correct. Firstly, at least in my time, research was beginning to prove that there is in fact no true Muggleborn. They are the descendants of squibs who left the wizarding world and chose to live among muggles. The potential for squibhood is higher in a Muggleborn than in any other witch or wizard. That is one point. Secondly, they come into our world bringing all their Muggle ideology along with them. Think of all the negative effects Muggle culture has had on our own. Of those, the vast majority can be laid at the feet of Muggleborn who wished to make our world more comfortable for themselves.'_

' _Well, I think-'_

_She cut off quickly, pulling her quill away as more of Tom's words appeared._

' _Thirdly, Ginny, those of us coming from the ancient and illustrious pure family lines have the deeds and wonders of our ancestors to inspire us. We are gifted with tales of their actions, and are constantly driven to match them, to act in a way that would make them proud. But all of these reasons pale before the most important and biggest reason of all. The Muggleborn are a great risk to us.'_

' _What do you mean?'_

' _The Statute of Secrecy only works if Muggles do not know of our existence. Muggleborn pour into our world, and their family all are told the truth. The more muggles that find out the truth, the greater the chance of them waging war on us. And do not be mistaken, if we are not prepared for such a war, we will all perish.'_

' _You're wrong, Tom. No one would do something so harmful to their family, even if they're Muggles.'_

' _Oh? Didn't you yourself tell me of how your brothers had to rescue Harry Potter from his family? How his guardians treat him like a beast to be caged? Think of that, Ginny, and understand that they know of our existence. What happens when someone in the Muggle military or government has the same reaction to our existence? They will want to cage us all. If they do not simply execute us.'_

' _You're wrong, Tom.'_

' _I am afraid that I'm not. Do not allow your emotions to interfere with your thought processes, my dear. Think it through. You will see that I am correct.'_

' _You're not. Even if you are, what would you do about it? You can't stop something like that!'_

' _I'm glad you asked. Total separation, that is how we stop it. We pass laws that criminalize fraternizing with muggles, severely punishing romantic entanglements. We Obliviate every Muggle who knows about our world, and implant trained witches and wizards into specific roles in the Muggle government and military, to ensure that as soon as they find out about us, we are aware. We remove magical children from Muggle homes the instant they show signs of magic, and we Obliviate their families and them, making sure they know nothing about their origins.'_

' _That's horrible! Taking children from their parents!'_

' _Horrible or not, it is necessary for survival. You will see, Ginny. You will see that I am right. I always am, aren't I?'_

' _Not about this.'_

_Long after her conversation with Tom finished, Ginny tossed and turned before falling into a thin, restless sleep, and having the worst nightmare that she could remember._

_What Tom had said was obviously still on her mind, because she dreamed that she was in a large cage, the type they had at the menagerie._

_Big Muggle men stood outside her cage, carrying guns and pointing her out to the huge crowd,_

_When she woke with a start, the first thing she did was open the diary and write a frantic message to Tom."_

* * *

Two weeks before Easter break, Professor McGonagall handed out the sign-up sheets for their elective classes the next year.

It was one of the easiest decisions of her life. Out of the subjects offered, only two of them were those she thought would help her with her studies in the Restricted Section, and she had no interest in any of the other three anyway.

More times than she could count, she'd seen references to the Arithmantic properties of numbers that simply flew straight over her head. Similarly, many times there were full paragraphs written in Ancient Runes, and she barely had managed to use any of the Runes Dictionaries she'd found.

She checked the boxes next to those two subjects and handed the page back to McGonagall, who smiled at her and congratulated her on her foresight.

She leaned against the entrance to the Common Room, panting and sweating with a racing heart.

The fire had burned down to nothing more than dying embers, the clock above the fireplace showing a quarter to two.

The room was empty, all of the normal students fast asleep.

' _Dumb!'_ She chided herself, _'stupid! How could I have been so damn stupid?!'_

She'd spent almost an hour and a half in the Restricted Section before giving up, unable to make heads or tails of the theory.

Idiotically enough, she'd chosen to go and practice her spellcasting before calling it a night, and that was only where her screw-up began.

After failing to cast the Choking Curse twice in a row, she'd been quite frustrated.

' _I didn't think, I didn't think. Damnit, damnit, damnit, I didn't think.'_

It was then that she returned to the spell she was still trying to master.

The strongest variation of the Exploding Charm.

She still was nowhere near perfect at it, but tonight, after her whisper of "Bombarda Maxima!" she'd achieved a larger explosion than ever before, actually shattering the desk she'd been using as a target into hundreds of pieces.

She'd stood there for a moment, looking at the wreckage and feeling triumphant, before realizing how monumentally stupid she'd just been.

She'd let off an enormous explosion in the middle of the night.

As soon as it hit her, she was running, trying to get back to her dorm as quickly as possible.

And on the way, she'd seen the glowing eyes and heard the tell-tale hiss of Mrs Norris.

' _If she recognizes me, if she somehow points me out to Filch...I'll be done for. They'll realize I've been lying to them. They'll all know something's up. Oh, bloody hell. If she recognizes me I'm screwed.'  
_

"Fuck," she growled, "What am I gonna do?"

' _There's nothing you can do. If the cat recognizes you, you're done. That's all there is to it.'_

' _Why couldn't Tom just have killed the stupid thing?'_

She made her way up the stairs to her room, terrible images of Filch grabbing her and taking her to Dumbledore circling her mind.

' _I need it,'_ she thought as she walked up to her bed and pulled the knife from her bag,  _'otherwise I'll never sleep tonight. I won't do it again this week, but I need it now, I need it.'_

Her roommates slept on, blissfully unaware of the tears dripping down her face and the blood dripping down her pale arm.

* * *

The Easter holidays seemed to fall upon Ginny suddenly, all but taking her unawares.

For the entire week leading up to them she'd been jumpy, flinching whenever she saw Filch or Mrs Norris and waiting on tenterhooks for a summons to Dumbledore that she was sure would come at any moment.

She hadn't dared the Restricted Section, and hadn't even gone near any of the empty classrooms she usually practised in, telling Colin that she was feeling a bit ill and skipping their duelling.

Apparently, however, her excursion had gone unnoticed, or at least her identity had.

For all of her anxiety, no one had said anything to her, and as far as she'd noticed, none of them had even looked askance at her.

She woke up alone in her room on the first day of the holidays, feeling relaxed and calm.

' _I just need to be more careful. I need to see if I can find a silencing spell, something I can put on a room as a whole.'_

These holidays were looking to be quite different from how the Christmas break had been. For one, many more students had stayed, including Colin. Luna had gone home, but with Colin there, she'd at least have someone to stave off boredom with, not to mention they'd probably be duelling far more often.

Another difference between the two breaks was the amount of homework given. Over Christmas, the professors had seemed content with letting the students really have a holiday, assigning very little work to be done. They weren't treating the Easter holidays the same, probably due to the upcoming exams.

' _Ok. I'll find a silencing spell, and then do the library work for the Potions and History exams.'_

After a quick breakfast in the oddly quiet Great Hall, she set out to the library to do just that.

* * *

"Hey," Ron whispered, "Ginny."

She let the quill drop from her aching fingers, absently massaging them with her other hand as she turned to him.

"Hey," she said, "what's up?"

He looked around the Common Room for a moment, seeming to judge that no one else was near enough to hear him.

"All good. Listen, Harry said I could have a go on his Firebolt, tonight."

"Ok…"

"He'll let you too, if you ask," he said, leaning slightly closer, "or I could ask if you want."

She felt a thrill of excitement roll through her for a second.

A Firebolt. A real, actual Firebolt. She'd never ridden a broom half as good as one of those, except in her daydreams.

' _He killed Tom, and you're going to beg him for a turn on his broom?'_

Her joy evaporated almost as swiftly as it had arrived, leaving nothing but a dull sensation of shame, her now false smile frozen on her face.

' _He's the hero of the wizarding world. You're the monster who loves the man who tried to kill him. You don't deserve any favours from him.'_

"Thanks, Ron," she said softly, "but I'll pass."

His mouth fell open, his eyebrows rising and turning his face into the perfect picture of surprise.

"You'll…pass? It's a Firebolt!"

"I know. I just-"

"He really doesn't mind," Ron said quickly, "he was just saying no to everyone the other day because then he'd have to let everyone have a turn. But now, there's so few of us around, we can keep it quiet. A Firebolt, Ginny!"

' _He killed Tom. I don't want to use anything of his. And I was meant to be meeting Colin tonight.'_

"I've had an upset stomach," she said, the lie dropping effortlessly from her lips, "I don't think it'd be a good idea."

"A Firebolt," he muttered, shaking his head and standing back up, "Balmy. Absolutely mad."

She stared for a minute, watching him leave the Common Room.

Then she picked up her quill and carried on her Transfiguration essay, feeling like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

* * *

"Whew," Colin exhaled, leaning with his hands splayed out against the desk, his breath still coming in short, sharp bursts. "Wow. You know, I haven't beaten you since the middle of term."

Ginny nodded, holding her hand against her ribs where a Bludgeoning Hex had taken her.

"It's a pity we don't have a duelling club," he said, "you'd be at the top for sure."

He straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead and stretching his back.

"You sure you don't want to ask Professor McGonagall about starting one? Or even Professor Flitwick, I heard when there used to be one, he was in charge of it."

"Sorry, Colin," she said, looking away from his earnest expression, "I'm just not interested in that type of thing."

"It would probably be better for you," He wheedled, "sparring with someone more on your level, I mean."

Her hands curled into fists, the pain in her side momentarily blotted out by the sudden flash of rage that shot through her.

"If you don't want to carry on," she said, her voice tight and words clipped, "you don't have to. I won't force you."

"I didn't-" he started, looking crestfallen.

"And if you want to go to McGonagall and make it a whole thing," she continued, steamrolling his attempts at speech, "go ahead. Just leave me out of it. I'm not interested."

"I didn't mean that," he burst out, "I don't want to stop! I like this. I just thought you might be-might be getting bored of beating me all of the time."

"I'm not," she said, anger beginning to drain out of her, "I like spending the time with you too much for that. You're one of my best friends, Colin. I wouldn't trade this time for anything."

He blushed, staring down at his shuffling feet.

' _Look at him. The Mudblood loves you. You can use that.'_

She nodded, smiling a little.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said, softening her tone with a small effort, "I just-I like it, just the two of us."

His head rose, a toothy smile appearing.

' _Far too easy. He barely even counts as practice.'_

* * *

"Hello, Hagrid," Luna called, waving wildly, "how are you?"

Hagrid stomped over to them, his beard looking more unkempt than ever.

"Hullo," He said, nodding to them, looking distinctly downcast.

"Excited for the Quidditch tomorrow?" Luna asked.

"If Harry wasn't playin', don't think I'd go," he said, "I'd jus' sit with Buckbeak, while-while I still can."

He withdrew an off-green handkerchief the size of a hand towel from his pocket and blew his nose, his massive eyes welling up with tears.

"There's still the appeal," Luna said, "you mustn't give up hope. Right, Ginny?"

She nodded, a horrid guilty sensation writhing in her belly.

She'd barely even seen Hagrid this year. Last year, she'd spent hours and hours at his hut, listening to his stories and drinking his tea.

This year, she'd been too busy thinking about helping the man who'd gotten him expelled from Hogwarts to visit him, even after Ron had told her all about his Hippogriff.

' _Feeling bad about the stupid oaf? You really are pathetic.'_

"It'll be ok, Hagrid," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice sounding normal, "you'll see. It'll be ok."

"I hope yer right," Hagrid said, "but those Ministry folks, they're no' easy to deal with."

"I'm sure it will turn out well," Luna said, "especially if you show them how much Buckbeak means to you."

"Thanks," Hagrid muttered, "why don't you two come by later? I've got to go an' feed Beaky now, but its bin a while since ye've come for a bit o' tea."

"I'd like that," Ginny said, "Luna?"

"Me too," Luna said, "maybe after dinner?"

"As long as ye'll be back before curfew," Hagrid said, "I don't wan' anyone gettin' in trouble for me."

"We'll make sure of it," Luna promised.

"Right. See yer then."

"Poor Hagrid," Luna remarked as they continued walking. "I hope Buckbeak gets let off."

"I don't think he will," Ginny said, "Dad says Fudge is in Lucius Malfoy's pocket."

"Poor Hagrid," Luna repeated in a heartfelt tone, "poor, poor Hagrid. At least they're not firing him. I'm very much looking forward to his lessons next year."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful."

"Well, I've never quite liked Arithmancy. But I'm sure it will be nice as well. What do you think will happen in the Quidditch tomorrow?"

Ginny snorted. Conversations with Luna were often like that, with sudden switches from topic to topic with barely an apparent reason for them.

"I'm sure Potter will somehow pull off a crazy catch," she said, "so it all depends on our Keeper and Chasers."

"Do you not like him?"

"Huh? Who?"

"Harry Potter. The way you said his name just now, it sounded like you were angry at him or something."

"No, no. I've got no problems with him."

' _He ruined my life. He killed Tom. It's all his fault.'_

"Oh. Well, I hope Gryffindor wins. I don't think the Slytherins deserve the Cup this year."

' _I hope Harry falls off his broom again.'  
_

* * *

She narrowed her eyes, looking at Ron and Harry and Hermione.

The three of them were sitting together, whispering with intent and serious expressions.

Something wasn't right. Something about the whole story they'd all been told wasn't right.

Of course, she didn't have any real details. There were dozens of rumours going around, and Ron hadn't seemed willing to share with her exactly which ones were true and which weren't.

But something about the whole story just didn't make sense to her.

If Sirius Black really had caught Harry, Ron, and Hermione, why hadn't he just killed Harry?

Why hadn't he just killed all of them?

How had Snape come into the picture, and how did Black even escape?

' _After getting away from Azkaban, breaking out of Hogwarts was probably child's play for him.'_

Still, it didn't make sense. People were talking about Dementors being involved, and she'd heard someone say that Snape had been knocked out.

The three of them stood up, Hermione walking up to her dorm and Harry and Ron heading to theirs.

"Ron," she called, waving to him.

He said something to Harry before coming over to the armchair next to hers.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask if you'd mind telling me what actually happened with Black?"

A strange series of expressions flirted across Ron's face.

"Uh, you know. We'd been over at Hagrid's before his appeal, and then Black, he just-he grabbed us. Had us at wandpoint."

He spoke too quickly, his words ringing with a rehearsed sound to them.

She tuned him out, watching his face carefully as he spoke.

He was lying to her, or at least, not telling her the full truth.

' _As if you've been honest with him.'_

"...and then Snape brought us back to the castle. Then I was waking up and they were saying that Black escaped."

"Must have been terrible," she said.

"Yeah. It was. Real scary."

"I'm glad you're alright," she said, reaching over and giving him a tight hug.

"Thanks, Gin," He said after a moment's pause.

' _What really happened?'_ She wanted to scream,  _'why couldn't Black just kill him?'_

* * *

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes for a second, the pistons thrumming through the floor as the train moved.

She'd gotten her exam results back a few days previously, and had already received an owl back from her mother congratulating her on them.

It wasn't surprising, really, that after all the long hours she'd spent in the library and practising spells she'd be getting some of the highest marks in her year, particularly in Defence, Charms, and Transfiguration.

Unsurprising, but utterly meaningless.

As the train moved further and further away from Hogwarts, she could feel the dread beginning to settle in her stomach.

Over two whole months that she'd have to spend at home. Two months where she'd have to be pretending to be perfectly fine to the people who knew her best, two months where her parents would be looking over her shoulder.

Two months where she wouldn't be able to study, where she wouldn't be able to tell herself that she was trying to learn what she needed to help Tom. Two months where her thoughts would slowly turn inwards and her mind would all but shatter under the pressure.

Two summer months where she'd have to be wearing long sleeves as much as possible, just in case someone noticed something.

At least she could do magic, if her roommates were to be believed. She'd have to be careful, because her parents wouldn't be pleased if they caught her, but she could do it.

She could still practice her hexes and curses, especially if she managed to get that silencing charm up on her bedroom walls.

And when she would need to, she'd still be able to cast the Healing Charm.

"I wanted to tell you," Luna said, interrupting her meandering train of thought and jolting her back to reality, "Daddy said that you could come over for a few days, if your parents let."

"I-I'd love to."

"Wonderful. You know, Ginny, you're my first real friend. I'm so happy to have you."

"Thanks, Luna," she said, settling back again, "I'm happy to have you as a friend too."

' _I just wish that I had Tom. I wish I could tell you the truth.'_


	8. Third Year, Part one

"Ginny!" Fred called, thumping his fist against the door, "Come on! Other people need to use the loo too, you know!"

"Just a minute!" She yelled back, frantically raising her wand.

"Tergeo," she whispered, waving her wand over her arm and hand, siphoning the blood up and into a floating ball.

"GINNY!"

With a flick of her hand, she sent the bloody ball flying into the toilet bowl.

"Just use one of the others!"

"They're all busy! Just hurry up!"

"Almost done!"

She ran her eyes around the small bathroom, scanning for any droplets she might have missed.

Then she rose, rolling her sleeve down and flushing the toilet.

Fred all but knocked her over as he rushed into the bathroom.

Her sigh was drowned out by the sound of the bathroom door slamming behind her.

It had been like that a lot, the last month and a half.

There was no room for real privacy, not at her house. Spend too long in the bathroom, someone would be bashing down the door. Hiding away in her room wasn't even an option, what with her family's penchant for walking in without knocking.

She'd thought that maybe at Luna's house she'd get some time to herself, but even that hadn't panned out. Her three days with Luna and Mr Lovegood had been nice and all, but Luna had kept them busy the entire time.

As fun as all the walking and games and talking had been, Ginny still wished she'd had some time alone. She'd barely managed to do her summer homework, and hadn't had more than half an hour at a time to focus on her spellcasting.

All in all, she was barely managing to get by with only using the knife once a day.

None of her family realized how much worse they were making everything. With their constant attention, their loving care, their attempts at coming up with fun ideas to keep everyone occupied; none of them realized how much she wished they would just leave her alone.

After her parents, Bill and Charlie were the worst offenders, by far.

She figured that they were just trying to make up for not having seen her for a year, but understanding the rationale behind their constant conversations didn't make it any less annoying, especially when she had no choice but to play along and act interested.

It would have been slightly more bearable if their little talks didn't always include some variation on a line about how well she was doing and how proud they were of her.

She often wondered what they would do if she were to just tell them the truth. If she were to just tell them that the girl they were so proud of didn't exist, that they didn't know the real her at all, that no one did.

What would they do if she were to tell them that she was actually a monster?

So far, difficult though it had been, she'd managed to hold back from flinging the truth in their faces. She'd smiled bashfully, letting a small blush appear as she looked down and shuffled her feet while they told her how incredible she was.

She snorted, walking into her room and immediately getting attacked by Ron's lunatic owl.

"You know, Pigwidgeon," she said softly, stroking the tiny bird's head, "if I had to stay here much longer, I think I'd go totally bonkers."

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, rubbing his beak against her hand.

She sighed, lying back on her bed, the owl still gently gripped in her hand.

"Not surprised you like me more than Ron," she told it, "he's a boring git, isn't he?"

The next hoot brought a smile to her face.

Worse, perhaps, than her parents' and Bill and Charlie's constant need to talk to her, was Ron's nonstop prattle about his friends.

Almost every conversation Ron was involved in would somehow bring up something that reminded him of Harry or Hermione. Of course, as soon as that happened he would feel the need to share it with everyone. He'd barely stopped talking about the Quidditch World Cup, and though she'd enjoyed those conversations at first, they'd quickly become Ron's musings over how Hermione would enjoy the game, or what team Harry would be supporting.

She supposed she wouldn't have felt that acidic pit opening in her stomach whenever Ron spoke if it had just been Hermione he was talking about. She didn't really care when the twins mentioned Lee, after all.

But Harry, well, that was a different story entirely.

Pigwidgeon nipped playfully at her fingers, pulling her attention back to him.

' _You should practice on the owl. You'll never be able to tell if you're doing the spells right unless you're testing them on something living.'_

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "no, I couldn't."

' _Why not? It's not like Ron really cares for it. Even if he did, it would be a fitting payback for his friendship with Potter.'_

"It's not right. I can't."

' _It's to make sure that you're doing the spells properly. You'll never be able to help Tom if you can't cast them. Of course it's right.'_

She stared down at Pigwidgeon through blurry eyes.

He hooted again, seeming to smile up at her.

"I can't."

' _Do you want to stay weak and useless? You'll have to practice, and it would be easier than with a human.'_

"I just-I don't-"

' _Pathetic. If you can't even kill an owl, you will be beyond useless to him. Disgusting.'_

She shook her wrist, her wand falling into her hand.

Its point shook through figures of eight as she tried to aim it, her hands trembling too much to simply keep it still.

' _Am I really going to do this?'_

' _Of course you are. It's the natural order of things. Do it.'_

She inhaled, preparing the incantation in her mind, snakes slithering through her belly.

"GINNY! SOME HELP IN THE KITCHEN, PLEASE!"

Her wand flew from her hands, her mother's sudden shout sending her heart racing.

"C-COMING," she called back, "JUST A MINUTE!"

"NOW! HERMIONE WILL BE HERE IN AN HOUR!"

' _If you knew Memory Charms, you could just practice on the Mudblood.'_

' _No, no, I don't-'_

Pigwidgeon gave an angry sounding squeak, and she quickly opened her fist.

He zoomed around the room, happy again, unaware of how close he'd come to extreme pain or even death.

"GINNY! WE STILL NEED TO DO YOUR ROOM!"

Of course Hermione would be sharing with her. Of bloody course.

And of course no one had thought to ask her.

She hurried from her room, her hands still shaking, the need beginning to rise within her again.

' _And with the Mudblood around, you won't be able to do anything in your room. What an absolute waste of a summer.'_

If not for the upcoming World Cup Final, she'd have unreservedly agreed.

At least at the Quidditch she'd be able to lose herself, forget about Tom and about everything.

At least there she wouldn't have to think about one day becoming one of his soldiers.

* * *

She stared across the table, her mother's small smile filling her eyes.

Her mother wasn't looking at her with that proud, happy expression.

No, her focus was a few seats down the table from where Ginny was, where Ron sat engrossed in conversation with Harry.

' _I think Tom was right. They'd much rather have had another son. They don't know what to do with me. They'd probably rather Harry joined the family for real.'_

' _Of course he was right, fool. He was always right.'_

Still, it hurt to see her mother giving more of a smile to the boy who'd ruined her life than to her.

"Ginny? What's wrong, dear?"

She looked up, catching her mother's eyes.

"Nothing," she said, putting on a smile, "just a bit of heartburn for a moment. It's gone now.'

Her mother shook her head, making a clucking sound. "You need to eat slower, dear. It's the best thing for it."

"Hard to do when the food is this good."

Her mother beamed at her.

* * *

"I think we can stay here for now," Fred said, eyeing the fleeing crowds around them warily, "I'm sure we're far enough."

George stood just ahead of them, wand in hand and jaw set.

"Who was that?" she asked, a part of her dreading the answer, "why would they-"

Terrified screams erupted from everyone around them, cutting her question off and making her jump.

Rising into the air above the forested area, glittering menacingly in the moonlight, was the Dark Mark.

Tom's sign.

Her heart skipped a beat, anxious excitement thrumming through her like lightning.

' _He's here, he's come back, he's come back to me!'_

"Come on," Fred shouted in her ear, his fingers tight around her arm, "we need to get away!"

His voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance. She stared up, drinking in the beautiful, terrible sight.

' _He's here!'_

"Ginny! We need to go!"

She tore her eyes away from what, until then, she'd only seen in her dreams, looking back at Fred. He was pale, his freckles seeming to glow in the dark.

He didn't see Tom's sign as something to be happy about. It terrified him, just like it terrified everyone who wasn't a monster.

"Come on," he repeated, dragging her away from her dreams.

She let him pull her, turning her head and watching for as long as she could.

* * *

The compartment door swung open, admitting three girls.

"Oh," one said, her voice infused with disappointment, "Looney's here."

"Should've realized there was a reason it was so empty," one of the others grumbled.

"Hello," Luna said brightly, "Ginny, this is Amber, Elenore, and Sarissa. They're in Ravenclaw with me. Would you like to join us? There's plenty of space."

"Of course there's plenty of space," Amber said, sounding exasperated, "Because you're here. Everyone's afraid if they spend too much time with you, they'll go crazy too."

"Hey!" Ginny said, her hackles rising, "You shut your mouth."

"Ginny-" Luna started calmly, but Amber cut her off before she could say more than that.

"Maybe she's already melted your brain with all her crumple-horned nonsense," the Ravenclaw said with a sneer, "there's no way you could choose to spend time with her if you were entirely normal."

Ginny stood up so quickly that Amber took a step back.

She gave a quick jerk of her wrist, making her wand fall neatly from the slip in her sleeve and into her hand.

"Get out," She snarled.

Amber frowned, her eyes flickering to Ginny's wand and back.

' _You could always practice on her. The bitch deserves it, doesn't she?'_

"C'mon, Amber," Sarissa said, giving her friend a gentle tug on the arm, "let's just go."

After a moment, Amber followed, raising her hand to the side of her head and making a circling motion with her fingers as she walked from the room.

Ginny slammed the door behind them so hard that she was half-surprised the glass didn't break, before dropping back into her seat with a huff.

"You didn't need to worry about them," Luna said, as serenely as if nothing had happened, "they'd have left after a few minutes anyway."

"Why do you just let them talk to you like that?" She demanded, "You can't just sit back like a doormat while they're insulting you!"

Luna shrugged, her intent eyes not leaving Ginny's own.

"Why should I care what they say about me? It doesn't change who I am."

"It-it's not right. You shouldn't have to take that."

"They don't do it to be mean," Luna said, explaining as patiently as if she were talking to a child, "That's just what they need to feel good about themselves."

"You shouldn't be their whipping boy," Ginny said, "no matter what."

"I really don't mind," Luna said, giving her a warm smile, "I used to, but I just don't anymore."

"What changed?"

"I made a friend," Luna said bashfully, finally removing her gaze from Ginny, "now I can't care what they have to say."

As much as she tried, Ginny couldn't find a reply to that.

* * *

She lay in her bed, the room quiet after the excited conversations had finally died down.

Her roommates were absolutely over the moon with the news, blabbering on for what felt like hours about how spectacular it would be, for them to actually witness the Triwizard Tournament.

Unlike those raised in the Muggle world, they'd all grown up knowing what the Triwizard Tournament was. It felt like the hero from every childhood story she'd ever heard had begun their journey into fame with winning the Tournament.

It was the stuff that made legends.

And now it was being held at Hogwarts.

She was excited about it as well, albeit for different reasons. She had no interest in wondering who would be Hogwarts' Champion, or whether they'd actually have to deal with Cyclops'.

In truth, a small part of her was interested in all that.

Far more exciting though, was the fact that with everything going on at Hogwarts, she would have to be much less worried about any of her extracurricular activities being noticed.

' _I'll still have to watch out for Moody,'_ she thought,  _'If even half of dad's stories are true, he'll pick up on anything suspicious.'_

Still, McGonagall and Dumbledore and all of the other teachers would be busy, and once the other schools came, all of the other students would be preoccupied with the foreigners.

' _And it will be easier for you to find an animal to test on.'_

She felt her eyelid twitch, her smile suddenly gone.

Whatever would happen, she was sure it would prove to be an interesting year.


	9. Third Year, Part Two

It was only on the fourth day of the new school year that Ginny got to experience the class she'd most been looking forward to; Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Arithmancy and Ancient Runes had both been interesting, even if the introductory lectures to both of them were not quite what she had expected.

"Arithmancy," Professor Vector had said, "is not simply another method of predicting the future. Nor is it merely an ingredient in Spellcrafting. The Arithmantic properties of each and every number define reality. They affect every single area of magic. Many of you may have joined this class believing it is something else. It is not. For quite some time, we will be doing nothing other than studying the properties of the ten base numbers. We will not even be thinking about addition until next term, let alone something as complex as multiplication. Anyone unwilling to commit themselves to a serious and dedicated study of the numbers is asked to leave."

Professor Babbling had followed in a similar vein.

"Many of you," she said, "are labouring under false impressions regarding this subject. You have heard tales about Scandinavian wizards of old, and have thought to follow in their footsteps and use battle runes. You will learn how to do that."

She had smiled then, looking like nothing if not a shark.

"If you receive a good enough O.W.L. result and are accepted back into this class, you will begin to learn runic magic. Until then, we will be doing nothing other than learning the language commonly referred to as Ancient Runes."

There had been more than a few disappointed faces in the class at that, but Ginny didn't mind. She'd taken Runes mostly because she wanted to learn how to read them, not because of any mistaken ideas about the syllabus.

They hadn't learned much in either of her new classes. Professor Vector had spoken for a while about the theory of Arithmancy before talking about the number one, and Professor Babbling had given them a brief history of Ancient Runes before starting to explain the alphabet to them.

Charms and Transfiguration as well hadn't included any real new information. In both of them, they'd started doing some revision of the previous year's classes.

She'd fallen asleep mere minutes after Binns had started droning about the witch hunts. She'd heard all about them from Tom, and he'd been a far more interesting teacher.

She hadn't had Potions, Herbology, or Astronomy yet. From all of her classes though, she was definitely most excited for Defence.

Even if she hadn't heard Fred and George's glowing recommendations, she'd have been excited to learn from Moody.

There were very few Aurors as well-known as Moody was. If she wanted to actually learn how to fight, he'd be a big help.

' _As long as he doesn't find out why you want to learn to fight.'_

' _Maybe he would help me, maybe he'd be able to fix me-'_

' _He'd lock you in Azkaban before you could speak. Don't be idiotic. There's nothing about you that needs fixing except for your laziness.'_

It was with an almost solid feeling of anticipation in the air that the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw third years entered the Defence classroom once the bell had rung.

Moody was waiting for them, his wooden leg clanking as he tapped it restlessly against the stone floor.

"Get yourselves seated," he said, waving a hand at the rows of desks before him, "You should all be old enough to sort yourselves out."

Ginny avoided the mild scrum for the front row of seats, choosing a desk in the middle of the class.

"Fine," Moody said after a few minutes, clapping his gnarled hands together, "that's done with. Now, over the course of this year, I'm meant to be training you how to defend yourselves from all of the terrible beasties you might be exposed to. Who can tell me the most dangerous creature out there?"

Almost everyone raised their hands.

"You," Moody said, pointing seemingly at random.

"A lethifold," Darryl Hart said promptly.

Moody said nothing, simply aiming his hand at someone else.

"A dragon," Evelyn answered, but again, Moody moved on.

"A manticore,"

"A nundu,"

"Dementor,"

"Vampires,"

"Giants,"

"A werewolf."

One by one, Moody ran through class, ignoring Ginny's attempted answer of a Quintaped just as he had ignored everyone else.

"All about done? Good, because all of you are wrong. MAN," he suddenly roared, making everyone jump and Lester Bridge knock over his ink bottle.

"You are far more likely to be killed or maimed by one of your fellow witches and wizards, even by a Muggle, than by any other beast. Most murdered people knew their murderer. Look around you."

Everyone did, exchanging puzzled glances as Moody went on.

"You are more likely to be killed by the person sitting next to you than by anything else in the world."

' _He really is mad.'_

"And that's why," he continued, his magical eye spinning around, landing on each of the students for a second or two before moving on, "I'm not only going to be teaching you about animals. We'll learn about them, but we'll also be learning all about good old fashioned curses, hexes, and jinxes. I will expect you to do the work I set, and to do it on time. I will expect you to practice the spells I set in your own time. I will expect you to put away your Witch Weekly and pay attention."

Priscilla gave a little jump before blushing and dropping the magazine into her bag.

"Right," Moody said, clapping his hands again, "let's get started."

* * *

She pushed against the swarm of students heading toward the grounds for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson, her mind still swimming with Moody's lecture.

He certainly knew his stuff. They hadn't done anything this class other than listen to him talk about curses, but it was still readily apparent how well versed he was with the material.

In fact, she was sure that if she just paid attention to some of his offhand comments, she'd be able to cast the spells from the Restricted Section that she was still struggling with.

She was planning, given her free period, to make way for one of the empty classrooms she usually used for training, and to try to begin making up for her waste of a summer.

"Ginny! Hey, wait up!"

She turned, elbowing one of her classmates aside.

Colin took the empty space beside her a moment later. By the look of things, he'd run after her. He was huffing and puffing, and his face was red.

"I thought you were taking Magical Creatures," he said, "went all the way down till I realized you weren't there."

"I thought I told you I was taking Runes and Arithmancy," she said.

"You probably did. Anyway, I've got to run again, just wanted to check if we'll be carrying on with…" he looked around, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "you know. What we were doing last year."

' _What an absolute fool. Disgusting little Mudblood. He's a waste of your time.'_

"Yeah," she said, "but I think only next week. I want to get used to the new schedule first."

"Good with me," he said, giving her a bright grin, "I'll see you later."

' _The most use he can have is if you practice on him.'_

* * *

She sighed, lowering her wand, her arm feeling quite tired and sore.

Unless she was very much mistaken, she'd just managed to cast the Choking Curse successfully for the first time.

It was hard to be sure, testing as she was in an empty room. Done properly, the curse wasn't meant to have any visible signs of it working, other than the target slowly being strangled to death, of course.

Still, she'd felt something, almost like there was an invisible rope stretching from the top of her wand, flailing around the room for something to grasp onto before fading.

She was almost certain that she'd done it properly. The key had been making herself feel the right emotion. She'd known that emotions were a strong component in many curses ever since she first saw a note in one of the books in the Restricted Section, but it had been Moody that really gave her the help she needed.

He'd been giving what he called a short primer on curses, which had taken up most of the lesson. He'd said that many curses required the caster to feel emotions like hatred, anger, or fear, and that it was this component of the spell which made them so much more difficult to heal.

When he'd mentioned hate, it was like a firework had gone off in her mind. She'd realized immediately what it was she needed to do, and had set off after class to test just that.

It was almost too easy to make herself feel the hatred bubbling up in her. All she needed to do was allow herself to think of Harry Potter, or of the expressions her parents would have if they somehow found out she still loved Tom.

It was easy, and it made casting the Choking Curse easy as well.

' _Very good,'_ that little voice in the back of her mind said, sounding pleased,  _'you've managed it. Now you need something to test it on.'_

"No," she said stubbornly, "I don't. If I did it right, it'll work right even if I have to use it on a person."

' _If you did it right. If. And if you did it wrong, you'll only find out too late.'_

"I don't care. I'm not stealing someone's pet just to-"

' _Ungrateful bitch. Useless, ungrateful bitch. Would Tom have held back from hurting an animal if it was necessary to help you?'_

"I don't want to."

' _You think you'd kill a person for him, but you can't hurt an animal? You're lying to yourself again.'_

She dropped to the floor, scurrying until she had her back to the wall and her knees drawn up before her, the clouds of dust thrown up by her passage gently settling over her.

"I don't-I-I don't need-"

' _Do you really think you wouldn't? You said you'd be a soldier for him. You said you'd kill for him.'_

She shook her head, tears flying off of her face like rain.

"Maybe I don't want to," she sobbed, "I don't want to kill, I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to-to be like those people at the World Cup. I don't want to hurt people for fun. I don't."

' _You disgusting, traitorous whore. You said you'd help him.'_

"I need help," she whispered, "I can't-I can't become that, I need help!"

' _Do you deserve help? Ask Colin if you do. Tell him the truth, and ask him if you need help. Tell your parents that you need help because you still love Tom.'  
_

"I don't, I don't, I don't,"

' _What happened in your dream last night? What did you say to him?'_

"I-it was just-just a d-dream,"

' _You can't stop thinking about him. You can't stop dreaming about him. You want him, you want to see him, you want to hear his voice for real.'_

"Stop. Just st-stop. Stop!"

' _Have you already forgotten last Christmas? What you said you'd do?'_

"N-no, but I-I don't want to be a m-monster, I don't want to-to hurt people. I don't!"

' _If helping Tom makes you a monster, you'll gladly do it.'_

She shook her head, words failing her.

' _Does it make you a monster to follow your heart? And you only ever need to hurt people who are fighting Tom. But you need to know that you can cast the spells first. Otherwise, you'll die. And you'll have done nothing of value to him.'  
_

"I-st-st-stop! Just stop!"

' _Dirty bitch. Dirty lying bitch. You said you'd do whatever you needed to help him._ '

She scrabbled for her bag, reaching in and pulling out the gleaming knife.

She stared at it for a half-second, debating just plunging it into her throat and ending it all, giving herself peace.

' _Dirty, lying, cowardly bitch. You said you'd help him, but you're simply too weak to do anything of the sort. Go on, then. Kill yourself. Do it, coward. Do it.'_

She growled, pulling up her robes and slicing a deep, long cut across her thigh.

Relief flooded through her, the voice falling silent for a moment as the searing pain spread out from her leg.

Blood dripped out, falling onto the dusty floor.

She slashed again, digging the knife in deep and pulling it harshly through her flesh.

A hiss escaped through her gritted teeth.

Her fingers were all red now.

She felt a momentary mad urge to giggle, looking down at the torn skin on her leg.

Her cheek twitched as she prodded the cuts, blood seeping out like a mostly turned off tap.

"I'm not a coward," she said, "I'll do what I need to. Whatever I need to."

She did give a short giggle then, as she raised her wand and set to cleaning herself up.

* * *

"' _Ginny, dear,' Tom wrote, 'I don't think you've ever told me what type of wand you have. Or maybe I never asked.'_

_She stared at his words until they began to fade, a small smile appearing as she ran her finger over where he'd called her dear._

' _It's Yew with dragon heartstring,' she replied, 'eleven and a quarter inches.'_

' _That's fascinating. My own wand was Yew.'_

' _Really?'_

' _Really. A Yew wand is usually a sign of a powerful wizard or witch, you know. Especially when combined with the dragon heartstring.'_

_She felt her ears beginning to heat up._

' _I'm sure we will be seeing plenty of wonders from you. Particularly in the areas of combative magic.'_

' _Do you really think so?' She asked, 'you're not just saying that?'_

' _Ginny, my sweetling. I would never lie to you. Nor would I offer false flattery.'_

' _But if I'm really a powerful witch, how come I haven't been doing so well in charms lately?'_

' _You have been complaining about being tired more often. I'm sure that is affecting your performance.'_

' _Maybe. I don't think I've been sleeping very well, even when I have been sleeping. Evelyn said I was sleepwalking again last night.'_

' _I'm sorry, love. I'm sure it will get better.'_

' _I hope so.'_

' _And try not to be too worried about your Charms. The more you practice, the easier you will find them. And I can tell you have enormous potential.'_

_Her blush deepened, her cheeks and neck feeling warm now._

' _Thank you, Tom. You always know just how to cheer me up.'_

' _It's my pleasure. Now, you should try getting to bed. You've got the Halloween feast tomorrow, and I'm certain there will be much excitement.'_

' _Good night, Tom. I love you.'_

_She looked away hurriedly, almost too embarrassed to look at what she'd just written._

_From the corner of her eyes, she saw words appearing on the page._

' _Good night, Ginny. I love you too.'"_

* * *

"Ow," Colin huffed, rubbing his chest with his face screwed up in a grimace, "Bloody hell, that really hurt."

"Sorry. It wasn't meant to be so strong. Here, let me try something."

She raised her wand, aiming right at where he seemed to be in pain.

"Episkey."

He squealed, jumping up before looking down at himself in astonishment.

"It's better," he said, "it doesn't hurt at all. Wow, Ginny. How did you do that?"

"Figured it was worth learning some basic healing spells," she said with a shrug.

"Definitely worth it. Definitely."

"Thanks."

For the next few minutes, they packed up in silence, setting the room back to how it usually looked.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"I-er-I uh-"

"What is it, Colin?" She asked, turning around to face him with exasperation rising.

He was looking down at his shuffling feet, his neck going red.

"I-can we do this less often?"

"Why?" She asked, her voice far colder than she'd have liked.

"It's just-Dennis is here now, and I'd want to hang out with him sometimes, and the only real chance we have is at nights. And with the new subjects, I've got all this extra work…"

He trailed off, his voice fading away under her gaze.

' _You should have realized how utterly useless the Mudblood is.'_

"I thought you liked this," she said, "I thought-"

"I do! It's just-I don't have enough spare time. And I-I'd like to carry on how we have, but I'm not doing too well in schoolwork, and Dennis keeps asking where I'm going."

She managed, by some force of will, to keep her face expressionless and her hand away from her wand.

' _Stupid, useless Mudblood. Tom should have just killed him!'_

"I thought, maybe we could try every two or three weeks," he continued, "If I can keep up to date with my homework, that should work. I just don't want to fail any of my classes, or ignore Dennis or anything like that."

' _Fuck Dennis! I need this!'_

"That should be fine," she said, "You need to put the more important things first. I get it. It makes sense"

"So you're...not upset?" He asked cautiously.

"Not at all."

' _Oblivious Mudblood bastard!'_

"Great," He said, smiling again.

* * *

"I wonder what the Durmstrang students will think of Hogwarts," Luna said. "How do you think they'll react?"

"I'm sure they'll find it nice," Ginny said absently, "why wouldn't they?"

"Well, Daddy says that Durmstrang is in a really terrible castle. He says that's why the Triwizard Tournament really stopped, because it was too embarrassing for them. And because of Beauxbatons."

"What did Beauxbatons do?"

"They're French," Luna said, as if that explained everything.

Ginny didn't respond, instead just continuing to stare out at the lake.

"Are you feeling alright?" Luna asked, "You seem very distracted."

' _No,'_ she thought,  _'I'm not alright.'_

The problem was, that little Tomlike voice was right. Over the past month of term, she'd been able to successfully cast not only the Choking Curse, but also the Piercing Curse, a more powerful version of the Bone-Breaking Curse, and the Paralysis Curse.

And yet, she couldn't be completely confident that she was doing any of them right. She thought she was, but until she actually tested on something alive, she couldn't know for sure.

She'd tossed out the voice's suggestion that she "accidentally" try them on Colin, and she certainly wouldn't be testing anything as intense as those curses on herself.

Which left her in quite a quandary.

She didn't want to hurt anything, didn't want to take someone's pet and kill it. But if she didn't, she felt sure that she was going to go mad.

Toward the end of the previous year, she'd gotten much better with her cutting. She'd been able to avoid using the knife for well over a week at a time, at one point only needing it every two weeks or so.

Now, she was doing well if she only needed it once a day.

Everything she knew was telling her that listening to the voice would be a bad idea. Even so, a part of her still felt that it would be the right thing to do.

"What do you do," she asked, "if…if your heart is telling you one thing, but your mind is telling you another?"

"You listen to your heart, silly," Luna said, "although it only says thump, thump, thump. You know you don't actually think with your heart, right?"

"I know."

"Good. So you were speaking metaphorically."

"Yes, Luna," she sighed.

"Then you should listen to your feelings. Daddy says that your feelings are actually based on subconscious thoughts, so it's really listening to your mind anyway."

' _Would she still have answered like that if she knew what I was really asking?'_

' _Of course not, idiot. She'd have run away before you even finished explaining your question.'_

* * *

It was in the middle of the night at the end of the second week of October when she finally got her chance.

She had just come back from the library, having taken a long and slow walk back to Gryffindor Tower. What with all the cleaning and preparation for the incoming foreign students, Filch was far more active. She'd had to be much more careful than usual, both in the Restricted Section and on the way back.

When she closed the portrait hole behind her and turned around, a small, dark shape leapt across the room.

Her breath caught in her throat, terror filling her.

Until she heard the croaking noise the thing was making.

' _Take it. It's the perfect chance.'_

The Common Room was perfectly empty, except for her and what she thought was Neville's toad; even the two portraits were asleep.

She saw Trevor move again, and her wand was in her hand.

"Petrificus Totalus," she whispered.

Trevor stopped his jumping, falling flat onto the carpet.

' _Take it and go. You have a free period after Defence tomorrow, you'll have plenty of time to test your spells on it.'_

With trembling fingers and a racing heart, she picked up the toad.

* * *

True to her plan, the next day she made her way back into her room after Defence.

None of her roommates were around. Apparently, taking care of animals was enough of a socially accepted hobby for their families to approve of their subject choices.

She walked up the stairs to her room, her heart beginning to pound, a sickly nauseous feeling settling in her stomach.

' _Am I really going to do this?'_

' _Of course you are. Unless you want to stay weak and useless forever.'_

She closed the curtains around her bed, applying the silencing charm she'd been practising.

Her hands were shaking so severely that it took several tries before she actually managed to open her trunk.

And she pulled out Trevor the toad.

The Body-Bind was still active, keeping everything except the small amphibian's eyes still and unmoving.

She thought he looked scared.

' _I can't do this, I can't, I can't, I can't.'_

Her breath started coming in short gasps, everything around her except Trevor vanishing from her vision.

' _I can't do this, I can't, I can't. Oh god, oh Merlin, I can't do this.'_

' _Take a deep breath._ '

She did so, mindlessly obeying.

' _Hold it.'_

After nearly a minute, she released the breath in a huff.

' _Now. Do it.'_

She gripped Trevor tightly, raising her wand with the other hand.

"Finite!"

Immediately, the toad tried to escape her grasp, feebly kicking at her and letting out a strangely high pitched croak.

Her wand shook so much she could barely aim it. She pushed the tip forward until it was touching the toad's flabby, rough skin.

The thought of what she was about to do filled her mind, the sudden urge to abandon everything and grab the knife instead rising within her.

She felt the hatred then, a surge of simmering fire boiling in her belly.

' _All of this is Potter's fault,'_ she thought,  _'if he had just saved me early enough, I'd have been fine. I wouldn't have needed to do this. It's all his fault.'_

Furious loathing pounded through her veins.

"Praefoco!"

The rope of her spell lunged out like it had ever since she had learned to actually cast it. But this time, it wrapped itself around a target.

She felt it working, felt the spell continuing for far longer than it ever had before.

The stupid toad let out a strangled choking noise, its eyes bulging and its mouth opening and closing uselessly.

' _It's working,'_ she thought giddily, ' _it's working!'_

Slowly, the toad's struggling grew weaker, pausing for what felt like hours at a time only for it to kick again, until, as she watched with wide eyes, it gave a great shiver and stopped moving entirely.

Barely a second later, she felt the spell stop.

' _Well done. Well done. Of course, you'll have to test it on a mammal, but this is good enough for now.'_

Her eyelid began to twitch as she stared down at Trevor's limp form, horrified nausea replacing her feeling of triumph.

' _What have I done? He was Neville's, I-I killed him! What have I done?'_

She paused for a moment to grab the knife from her backpack before running to the bathroom, making it to the toilet an instant before she threw up.

* * *

She gently closed the book, a thick feeling of unreality washing over her again.

She'd been experiencing the strange, dreamlike sensation a lot over the last few days, ever since she'd murdered Neville's pet.

She'd be in the middle of doing something, and she'd remember what she'd done, how triumphant she'd felt about it.

If she hadn't practised the Freezing Spell before Professor Flitwick taught it to them, she'd have had serious issues in Charms the day before, where she'd sat, staring with unseeing eyes at the open book before her for nearly half an hour, while everyone else had been trying to get the spell right.

Luckily, she had practised it, so when Flitwick broke her from her reverie by asking to see her attempt, she'd managed it easily.

She'd even earned Gryffindor five points for that, meaningless as it all was. Someone sneezed a few rows of shelves over, in what she thought was the normal section of the library.

Very, very slowly, as quietly as she could, she stood up, putting the book back on the shelf and heading for the secret passageway out of there.

It was stupid to be in the Restricted Section in the daytime, she knew that. But she didn't really have any other better option. The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students would be arriving in less than a week, and Filch and Mrs Norris were more active than she'd ever seen them before.

She'd almost gotten caught the night before, in fact, when she'd tried to sneak into the Restricted Section.

Luckily, she'd managed to escape Mrs Norris, but it had been a close call. It wasn't even just the Restricted Section that was getting harder for her to access, but even the empty classrooms she and Colin usually practised duelling in had been cleaned, the piles of dust and old graffiti removed.

During the day, she was much less likely to be questioned about where she was going. It was stupid to go to the Restricted Section in the day, but it would be even more stupid to go at night.

' _I could just not go. Wait until the foreigners have settled in and everyone's less on edge.'_

' _And you would do nothing but stagnating during that time.'_

Unless…

If she could get the spell she'd just read about to work and she did it on Mrs Norris, then maybe things would be a lot easier.

' _Why only think about the cat? You could do it on her squib master.'_

She shuddered, nausea flashing through her for a moment.

The spell in question, the Parerum Curse, had supposedly been a precursor to the Imperius, a less effective way of taking complete control of someone.

It was meant to be much easier to cast than the Imperius, but it did require the caster to have something from the body of the target; hair or nail clippings, blood or spit or the like.

And even though the target would have an easier time fighting it off than they would the Imperius, the book had still said that most people couldn't fight it at all.

She certainly couldn't imagine someone as useless as Filch breaking the spell's control, let alone his cat.

She shuddered again, her cheek beginning to twitch.

' _At some point, you'll have to practice on something bigger than the stupid toad. And if you can use it to make your research go smoother, all the better.'_

' _And if I get caught, I'll be expelled for sure, and maybe even go to Azkaban.'_

' _So you practice first on the cat. It'll be easy enough to do. Just pet the damn thing and pull off a hair. That's all you need to do.'_

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

' _No. No. I'll get caught, Filch loves his cat more than anything. No.'_

' _Stay weak, then. Stay useless. And when you one day see Tom again and ask if you can help him, he'll say no.'_

Her pace quickened, her legs taking her straight to the nearest bathroom even as she took her knapsack off her back and began pawing through it.

' _Merlin, you're disgusting.'_

She couldn't help but agree with the voice.

* * *

She put the quill down for a moment, rubbing at her eyes.

God, but she was exhausted. With the delegations from the other schools arriving in just another two days, her roommates had reached new levels of inanity, keeping her up until well after two with their stupid conversations.

Once they had finally shut up for long enough to let her fall asleep, her dreams had woken her up what felt like mere minutes later.

It'd been the same dream as always, with Tom kissing her amongst the corpses in the Great Hall.

For the first time since she'd started having the dream though, she hadn't woken up as soon as her and Tom's robes began to vanish.

No, last night she'd slept for a bit longer than usual, until… well, even thinking about it the next night, when she was sitting doing her homework in the Common Room, it was enough to make her blush.

She picked her quill up again, the sound of people writing and having soft conversations filling the Common Room.

"Hello? Um, has anyone seen my toad?"

Her quill fell from limp fingers, the blood rushing from her face as she looked up.

Neville was standing in front of the fireplace, his round face looking even more worried than usual.

"You know," he said, "Trevor. He disappeared about a week ago…"

No one said anything.

Turning her head back down to her parchment before she could meet Neville's eyes, she picked up her quill again.

It shook so badly that she could barely hold it.

"Sorry, Neville," Dean called, "Haven't seen him. But he's disappeared before, hasn't he?"

"Not nearly for this long."

Her hand spasmed, making her accidentally tear right through the parchment with the point of her quill.

That had sounded like real pain in Neville's voice. Anguish, almost.

"I'm just worried that-that he got onto the grounds. With those Skrewts around…"

He trailed off hopelessly, looking around the Common Room.

' _He is in the grounds,'_ she thought, a mad laugh trying to tear its way free from her,  _'I threw him in the lake.'_

"If anyone sees him," Neville continued, "please let me know."

' _I killed him, you weak bastard. Why couldn't you just have kept him in your room at night? Why did you have to let me do it?'_

* * *

The Great Hall was deathly silent as Potter entered the same room the other champions had gone into.

Ron was still holding his goblet in the air, looking like someone had punched him in the gut.

Dumbledore was making some announcement, but she didn't care enough to listen.

She just stared at Ron's expression, a savage joy heating up her belly.

' _Now you see what he's like,'_ she wanted to shout, ' _now you see what an interfering glory hound he is!'_

* * *

She cocked her head up, going perfectly still as she tried to listen.

After a second, she heard them again.

Footsteps, and coming toward her.

' _Oh no, oh bloody fucking hell, oh no, oh no.'_

She slid out of her chair, careful not to put too much weight on it and make it slide across the floor, trying to avoid the rising panic in the back of her mind.

The footsteps grew louder and she began to back away, realizing only when she was nearly at the end of the row of shelves that she'd left her bag next to the table.

And she'd left the book open on the table.

As she'd made up her mind to grab her bag and run for it, someone turned the corner.

She stared at him for a moment, a pure pocket of calm opening within the panic overwhelming her mind.

She was pretty sure he was the seventh year Slytherin that Ron once said used to be Slytherin's Seeker, someone Higgs.

He was easily two heads taller than her, and he had his wand in his hand and a shiny prefect's badge on his robes.

"Weasley, right?" He asked, a genial smile spreading across his face, "can I see your Pass, please?"

' _Oh no, I'm done, I'm done, oh fuck!'_

"I-I gave it to M-Madam Pince."

His expression didn't change in the least, but it suddenly looked far less friendly.

"No you didn't," he said, "if you have a pass for a specific book, you give that to Madam Pince and she gets the book for you. If you have a pass to browse the Restricted Section yourself, like you're apparently doing, you keep it. And you show it to anyone who asks."

He took a step forward, looking down at the book she'd stupidly left open.

"Wow. A Weasley reading this. I hope you're good at doing things without magic."

She could barely hear her own whisper over the sound of her heart.

"Wh-why?"

"Well, especially if the rumours about that whole Chamber of Secrets thing are true, you're going to be expelled. They'll snap your wand and everything."

He shook his head in mock sadness, his smile growing.

' _No, no, I can't, they'll all know, they'll hate me, no, no, I need to stop this.'_

"Such a pity," he said, picking up the book and turning away from her.

He was halfway to the end of the row when she found her voice.

"Wait," she cried, the word coming out in a hoarse croak, "Don't!"

He stopped walking, his back still toward her.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Please," she whispered, "please don't, I can't-"

"What's in it for me?"

She stared at his back, her mouth dry.

"Please. I'll-I'll do anything. Just don't turn me in."

He turned to face her, the candlelight casting strange shadows upon his face, making his smile wolfish and predatory.

"Anything?"

She nodded frantically, the panic beginning to slowly die down.

"Anything. Anything, just-"

"Anything," he repeated, "Well, I think I can work with that."


	10. Interlude II

"Are you certain you won't take a drink, Alastor?"

Moody drew his hip flask, tapping it with his fingernails and making an almost musical sound.

"Of course," Albus sighed, giving the slightest flick of his wand.

The bottle of wine on the table rose into the air, tilting and pouring itself into the goblet.

"So," Moody said, "you badger me into coming to teach here because you want the extra security. Did it never cross your mind to simply not host the Triwizard Tournament? You'd be a lot safer without the strangers, especially those Durmstrang lot."

"The choice was not entirely my own. The Ministry decided it was time to renew the Tournament, and the Board of Governors agreed with them."

"I hear you managed to kick Malfoy off of that," Moody said, "How'd you pull that one off?"

Dumbledore smiled, his entire face brightening up with the motion.

"A thrilling tale indeed, and one that is far more young Mr Potter's to tell than mine. Ask him what happened to his sock, I do believe he'll be eager to enlighten you."

"Do you really expect me to believe that you couldn't push the Tournament off?"

Leaning back in his armchair with a pensive expression on his face, Dumbledore took a sip of his wine before smacking his lips and answering.

"Certainly I could. But improved international relations are never something to scoff at."

His eyes seemed to gain intensity, his piercing gaze focusing on Moody.

"I cannot counter Voldemort's plans if I do not have information about them," he said, his voice lacking its previous humour. "I do not possess that information at this time. If he does manage to regain his body, we will be in much the same state as we were before Harry rendered him powerless. Perhaps if the other countries are friendlier toward us than they were back then, they will not deem his return to be a mere internal matter. Their assistance could prove invaluable."

"If you trust them."

"I would imagine it makes for a lonely life, trusting nobody."

Moody shrugged, raising his silver flask almost in salute. "Maybe. But it certainly makes for a life."

"Life is about more than mere survival, Alastor."

"You need to survive to have a life. Anyway, what exactly do you expect me to do? Or do you just want me here for the extra security?"

"I expect you to teach. Should Voldemort manage to one day return, our students will certainly benefit having gained from your expertise."

"Even the ones who would happily join him?"

Albus nodded gravely.

"The circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant when compared with their ability to choose. Even those from...more misguided families, shall we say, can still choose to make their own decisions."

Moody rubbed his chin, looking like he was just barely holding back a comment.

"And I will ask you to look out for Harry Potter. Already since he has come to Hogwarts he has thwarted Voldemort's plans, and they were actually face to face then. Voldemort does not forget an incident like that."

"You think Voldemort wants to do something to the boy," Moody said flatly.

"I do not think anything, just yet. But I feel certain that Voldemort would want to show his superiority and might over the boy who brought about his downfall, even if only temporarily."

"So. Teach, watch Potter, and watch the foreigners. Not to mention Karkaroff and Snape. A lovely start to my quiet retirement."

"Severus has my full confidence. Your attention need not be focused on him."

"You trust too easily, Albus. Far too easily."

Dumbledore just smiled in response.

"The teaching should be easy enough. Lupin sent me some information about what he was doing last year. Seems to have done a decent job."

"Yes, Remus was rather successful. It was quite a welcome surprise to have a competent Defence professor for a change. Now, there are several students who I would appreciate if you kept an eye on, perhaps even try to build a rapport with."

"I keep an eye on everyone," Moody said, his magical eye spinning around to emphasize the point. "Who are these kids?"

"Firstly, Miss Ginevra Weasley. She goes by Ginny, I believe."

"Arthur's daughter?"

"The very same. Tell me, Alastor. How much did you hear about the Chamber of Secrets incident?"

"Not much. You did a pretty good job of keeping everything under wraps."

"It wasn't all my work," Dumbledore said modestly, "Fudge didn't want to reduce confidence in Hogwarts either. What precisely did you hear?"

"Very little. A bunch of petrifications, rumours that Potter fought a basilisk."

"Harry did kill the basilisk," Dumbledore said, reaching out and stroking Fawkes, "with a little help, of course. An enchanted diary had made its way to Miss Weasley. A diary enchanted by Voldemort himself during his school years."

Moody's eyebrows rose.

"She was possessed by a memory of Voldemort, Alastor. It was she who opened the Chamber, she who set the basilisk upon her fellow students. And if not for Harry's destruction of the diary, her life, her very soul would have been sapped from her, giving the shade of Voldemort a semblance of life."

"She…was possessed by him? For how long?"

"She had the diary for close to a year," Albus sighed, "it was enchanted to affect her mental and emotional state, to make her feel like she loved and needed him."

"And she's just fine now?"

Albus nodded, smiling slightly at Moody's doubtful tone.

"The capacity for resilience in children is too often overlooked. She is not quite as fine as she could be, but she's certainly getting there. Her improvements have been nothing short of remarkable."

"You still want me to keep an eye on her," Moody said slowly, "you don't really think she's better."

"I do believe she is better. But I would be very surprised if she was not still experiencing guilt and shame, or if the remnants of those emotions the diary made her feel were entirely gone.

She certainly has been going through the process of healing, but it would be irresponsible to not pay attention to how she continues."

"What've you done until now?"

"Last year, Minerva met with her on a semi-regular basis and kept a watch on her for the rest of the time. But with the extra work brought on for her by the Tournament, she will not be able to be as present as she was. All I want is that you watch her for signs of loneliness and solitary behaviour, and that you try to build up her self-confidence as much as you can."

Moody chuckled, "I owe Arthur more than one favour anyway."

"Wonderful. If you can get her to open up to you about her experience, that would be the best. She very much enjoys Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Moody shrugged.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent. As for the other students, there are a few with issues that bear discussion…"

* * *

"Percy's not with you?" Molly asked.

"Said he'll be home a little bit later than usual today," Arthur said, stepping out of the fireplace and brushing his robes off, "Apparently Crouch has been giving him a bit more responsibility with the logistics of the Tournament."

"That's wonderful! What's he doing?"

"He's been put in charge of clearing the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang travel arrangements with the other countries they'll be passing through. Durmstrang's the bigger hassle, of course, but even Beauxbatons won't be coming straight from France."

"Why not?"

Arthur shrugged. "Percy was a tad too busy to explain the details to me. I'm sure we'll hear all about it when he gets home."

"We will," she said fondly, "I doubt he'll be able to hold himself back from telling us."

"I'd say not. It's really quite impressive, how well he's taken to the job. People keep complimenting me on him."

She gave him a peck on the cheek once he'd hung his cloak up, before turning and walking toward the kitchen.

"Percy does know how to work hard," she said, "if only the twins took his lead."

"They'll be fine, Molly. They're bright enough boys, and they know where to draw the line with their japes."

"I hope so," She muttered, "otherwise they'll just end up like that Thistleten boy."

"Have you heard from them yet?"

"Not yet. You know the boys, we'll be lucky if they send something before Halloween. We did get an owl from Ginny though."

"Oh?"

"She didn't have much to say, only that she's very excited for the Tournament, and that she arrived safely in school."

She looked over at her husband, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"I really didn't like how-how distant she was, over the holidays. I barely felt like I could talk to her, Arthur."

"I know," he said, "I saw it too. And then at the World Cup, after those-those people sent up the Dark Mark. She was just so quiet. I don't think she said a word until the next day."

"She's better than how she was last summer," Molly admitted, "but I still don't like it."

"She is doing better though. That's the main thing. And now that she's really becoming a teenager, some moodiness is to be expected. Remember what Charlie was like at her age?"

"Charlie hadn't been through what she has," Molly said bitterly, "and now that Percy's not at school, who's looking out for her?"

"The twins and Ron might be a bit irresponsible sometimes, but only with things that aren't so important. They'll look out for her, Molly. They will."

"I hope so."

"And the staff will as well," Arthur continued, "Professor Dumbledore said he'd ask Alastor to make a point of it, and you know what he's like. She's in good hands, dear. She'll be fine."

"I just want her to be normal again," Molly said, her voice hitching as her eyes welled up, "like she was before-before everything. I just want it all to be over."

"It will be," Arthur said, "but I don't know what we can do to speed that up, other than giving her the space she needs to figure herself out. I don't think there's anything we can do, except making sure that we show how much we love and support her."

"I know that. I just hate having to-to sit on the sidelines while she's clearly still struggling."

"Me too," Arthur sighed, "but we've managed the last year, and she is getting better. That's the important thing."

Just then, they heard the sound of the fireplace roaring to life.

A quick glance at the clock told them that Percy had returned.

"Hello," Percy called, "Mum? Dad? I'm home."

"Hi, Percy," Arthur called, while Molly dried her eyes on a handkerchief, "you're just in time for dinner."

Percy walked into the kitchen, a bright smile on his face, immediately beginning to tell them about his new responsibilities.

Molly smiled as she listened, her worries about her daughter pushed back to the corner of her mind.


	11. Third year, part three

With a feeling almost like she walking to her own execution, Ginny headed towards the sixth floor.

Terrence, as he'd said to call him, had told her to meet him down the third corridor on the left, just in front of the painting of a landscape opposite a suit of armour.

' _What if he wants to-to do it with me?'_ She thought, her heart pounding harder and louder with every step she took.

' _Then you'll do it. Unless you want him to go to Dumbledore, you'll do whatever he asks.'_

She shuddered, her breath catching for a moment.

That thought of being turned in to the Headmaster was far more terrifying than her worries about what she'd have to do to avoid it. She could hear it clearly in her mind, Dumbledore's disappointed voice as he said that she must not have told them the truth, that she must have still been thinking about Tom. She could hear the sound that her wand would make as it was snapped.

She could hear her mother's soft sobs, see her parents' distraught expressions.

There wouldn't be any way to hide what had been going on in her mind for the last year, not if Terrence turned her in. She knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't be able to manage it, not if they asked her directly.

She'd been stupid, and now she would pay the price.

Whatever it was.

The tapers were beginning to dim, the dying candlelight casting strange shadows ahead of her.

She should have been in bed, like her roommates were. Like any normal student was.

But she'd been stupid.

She saw the suit of armour standing in a small crevice opposite a large painting and her mouth went dry.

' _Where is he?'_ She thought, looking around wildly,  _'was this all his idea of a joke?'_

She stepped closer to the wall, examining the picture.

It stretched from the ceiling to the floor, hanging in a gilt frame. It showed a grassy field with three enormous boulders in the background, all painted in dull, earthy colours.

"Found it all right, eh?"

She spun around, hand flying to her mouth, a scream trapped in her throat.

"You'll be able to do Disillusionment Charms too, one day," Terrence said, stepping out from beside the armour, "If you don't get kicked out, of course."

The stone wall rubbed against her back. She'd instinctively moved away from him without even realizing it.

"Relax," he said, an easy smile stretching his lips, "just relax."

She flinched as he moved toward her, his wand in his hand.

"Just relax. Merlin, you'd think I've forced you to be here."

He raised his wand, and with a significant look at her, tapped the middle boulder three times.

The painting swung forward.

"Well? Come on in."

She followed him, stopping the second she had entered the room, her breath catching again.

It was beautiful.

It was a lot bigger than her own dorm room, and she noticed a small doorway leading into what looked like a bathroom. The room itself had a thick, shaggy carpet, and the walls were covered in beautiful tapestries.

There was a four-poster bed near the wall, easily three times bigger than those in her room.

The large fireplace stood empty and cold, but the candles mounted to the wall above it were lit.

The desk in the middle of the room was covered; bottles, some empty, some full of ale and whiskey were scattered around it, cigarette butts and what looked like piles of used pipe tobacco had been pushed into small mounds, and magazines with brightly coloured moving pictures lay haphazardly open.

"So? Like my little hideout?"

"It's amazing," she said honestly, "what is this place?"

"Who knows?" He murmured, "Maybe it was once a teacher's quarters, or maybe there really were married students here, once upon a time. All that matters now is that it's mine."

She took a step toward the table, blushing furiously as she caught sight of one of the pictures in the magazine.

Her gorge rose as she suddenly came back to earth and remembered where she was.

' _That's what he wants, he wants to-to-'_

"Take off your clothes," he said.

She looked up sharply, feeling for a second like she really was going to vomit.

He stood only a few meters from her, watching her intently with a small smile.

"I-I don't-I-"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, and though his tone was breezy and light, his eyes were hard as flint. "Just bear in mind that if you aren't doing what I want, there's really no reason for me to not turn you in."

' _I can't-I can't-'_

' _If you don't, you're done for. How much use will you be to Tom without a wand or training?'_

Her eyes screwed up tight, she began to take off her clothes.

Her fingers were trembling almost too much to use them, but somehow, she managed.

After a few minutes she was standing in nothing but her bra and knickers, the carpet feeling warm against her bare feet.

"All of them," he said.

"I-pl-" she started, her eyes flying open.

"If you're just going to waste my time," he snarled, "then put your clothes back on, fuck off, and face the consequences. Make up your fucking mind already."

' _Just do whatever he wants and it'll be over.'_

She closed her eyes again, blindly fumbling at the clasp on her bra and dropping her knickers.

A moment later, she felt him moving beside her.

She kept her eyes shut, her body going as still as a statue, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Very nice," he muttered, his breath hot on her cheek, his hand roving around her chest. He squeezed her breasts, rubbing and flicking his fingers against her nipples.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to scream.

A dreamlike feeling swept over her right as his hand began to run down her body, his nails scratching lightly against her skin.

That feeling only increased as he reached in between her legs and began rubbing his hand there.

' _Just let it happen, let him do what he wants and it'll all be over.'_

His fingers were caressing her entrance, dancing along her skin.

' _I'm going to scream, I can't hold it.'_

She bit the inside of her cheek instead.

A small gasp escaped her as he  _plunged_ two of his fingers into her, her teeth clamping shut and drawing blood within her mouth.

He said something which flew straight through one ear and out the other, and a moment later he had removed his hand from her breast and was pushing her chin, angling her mouth up to meet his.

She'd never imagined a kiss to be anything like what she then experienced. His breath tasted terrible, his tongue lashing out against hers like a snake.

His fingers were still moving inside her, sending pain rushing from her groin to fill her body with their every twitch.

His hand moved back to her chest as he started pushing up against her, something hard rubbing up against her hip.

He pulled his fingers out of her without warning, moving his mouth from hers at the same time.

"Look at me," he said, "come on, look at me."

She opened her eyes, his blurry face slowly taking shape.

He moved slightly away from her, fumbling at his own robes.

"Get on your knees," he said, his voice rough and filled with some heavy, unidentifiable emotion.

' _Oh Merlin, oh god, he wants-'_

"Do it or leave," he said, throwing his robes into a pile near the table.

' _Just fucking do it!'_

She dropped to her knees, her legs shaking so much that she almost fell, nausea rising again.

He turned back to face her, kicking his boxers off.

She just stared.

She'd seen a boy's thing before, of course. It was unavoidable, growing up with six brothers, one of whom was just a year older than her.

But she'd never seen anything like this.

It was bigger than she'd have imagined, longer than two of her fists and thick, standing ramrod straight with an impossibly pink and swollen top.

The top glistened with some liquid, something leaking out from the hole.

She bit her cheek again, focusing all of her will on not vomiting.

As he stepped toward her, her peripheral vision began to fade, nothing visible except his slightly twitching member.

Her breath began coming in small stops and starts, her heart somehow beginning to pound even harder than it had until then.

' _I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this-'_

' _Do whatever he wants or you're absolutely fucked. Just do what he wants.'_

"I've n-never-I don't know h-how to-to-"

"Mind your teeth," he said, moving even closer, "use your tongue a lot, and move your head. You'll figure it out, I'm sure. You're a smart girl."

' _No,no,no,no,no-'_

Thought faded into a cloud of mindless panic as he took the final step forward, grabbing hold of her hair and  _shoving_ himself into her mouth.

She gagged, the terrible, rubbery thing knocking against the roof of her mouth.

"M-mind your teeth," he gasped, "And use your tongue. Do it!"

She folded her lips back, flicking her tongue around him, that feeling of unreality hitting her more heavily than it ever had before.

He gripped her hair, pulling her head forward and back roughly as he began pumping his hips.

"So good, fuck, you're so good."

A sudden, mad idea seized her, thoughts of just clamping her teeth down and ripping through him.

' _He'll turn you in, if he doesn't just kill you first."_

His strong, musky scent filled her nostrils, his pistoning groin and tugging of her hair forcing his entire length down her throat, making her gag again.

He didn't care. He just kept moving, plunging forward into her throat even faster, and emitting a strange, mewling groan.

' _I'm going to be sick, I'm going to puke all over him-'_

' _He'll be furious. Just carry on. It'll be over soon.'_

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna-I'm-"

He thrust himself as deep as he'd gone until then, and she felt it. Something, something thick and wet and slimy, flooding into the back of her throat.

He pulled out of her mouth, his legs shaking slightly.

"I want to see you swallow it."

' _No, no, no-'_

He gripped the bottom of her chin, pulling her up to face him.

"Go on, then."

He looked deranged, his face flushed and pupils enormous, a sweaty bunch of hair flopping onto his forehead.

' _Just do it. And then you're done.'_

She swallowed, feeling for a moment like she was going to choke.

"Amazing," he whispered, "fucking hell, you're amazing."

She looked back down, suddenly aware of the tears covering her face

When had she even started crying?

"Go wash your face," he said, his sneer audible.

He watched as she rose on jelly-legs, giving her a soft slap on the bum as she walked toward the bathroom.

Any other time, and she'd have been blown away by the beauty of the bathroom. The bathtub was easily bigger than her bed, standing on clawed feet with tens of faucets arranged all around the tub.

She just walked to the sink, carefully avoiding looking at herself in the mirror, the need to throw up pounding in her throat along with that horrific taste.

When she walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the cushioned armchair, one hand stroking his penis, a bottle of beer being raised to his mouth with his other hand.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked lightly as she bent to pick up her clothes.

"I-I thought-"

"I'd rather you didn't," he said, moving his legs to the sides and pushing his cock forward, "I'd much rather we tried to see if it's even better the second time."

Her eyes welled up again and she abandoned her clothes, walking toward him.

* * *

Blood trailed down her chest, giving a light pink hue to the water pooling around the drain.

The sound of the shower hid her sobs, her roommates sleeping just meters away totally unaware.

She retched, nothing left in her stomach to be expelled, her sides aching.

It wasn't going to end. He'd told her, after the second time that she-that she-

She retched again, pawing around the soap holder until she found the knife once more.

He'd told her that it wasn't over. He'd said it, that what she'd done had made him forget about catching her in the Restricted Section, but that he'd remember again soon enough.

And then she'd need to do what he wanted again.

She slashed the knife, pulling it harshly across what he'd called her tits.

The taste still stood out in her mouth, just as overpowering as the first moment she'd tasted it.

No matter how much she threw up and brushed her teeth, it was still there.

She cut again, staring at her wrist and wishing that she'd just sliced right through it, back when she'd wanted to.

If only she wasn't so weak, she'd have been able to fight him. If she was only better, smarter, more powerful, she'd have been able to stop him.

'' _It's not your fault. If Potter hadn't killed Tom, none of this would have happened.'_

* * *

She lay on her bed, staring listlessly at the top of her four-poster.

Over the last week or so, she hadn't done anything other than her schoolwork. Somehow, she'd managed to pretend like everything was ok, but it was a never-ending battle.

She'd even been avoiding Luna and Colin, hiding out in her room during her breaks and free periods.

Ever since she'd met with  _him,_ the feeling of unreality had been constant, always present and always as strong as it was when she'd killed Trevor.

She shuddered, a single tear escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheek.

' _I can't keep on like this. Someone's going to notice, if they haven't already.'_

In fact, she was half convinced that the only reason nobody had noticed her sudden withdrawal was because of the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, and Potter's absurd presence in it.

Well, her current emotional state had been noticed, if only slightly. Luckily, Evelyn had bought her lie that she'd forgotten to take her monthly potion in time.

It wasn't at all a lie that she could keep up. Even using that excuse for a week was pushing it.

' _If you keep acting like this, someone will realize something is up. If that happens, it will all have been for nothing.'_

"But what do I do?" She whispered, her tears beginning to flood down her face, "I can't just-just pretend like nothing happened. I can't!"

' _You can. Tom said that you're brilliant, that you're strong and brave. You can do it. You must.'_

"I can't," she sobbed, "I can't!"

Utterly implacable, the voice answered.  _'You don't have any other choice.'_

* * *

She halted, just a step away from the door that would open behind a bookshelf.

Her heart was pounding, her chest aching as she began to gasp for air.

She was going to fail, again.

She'd tried to sneak into the Restricted Section twice since he'd found her there. Both times, she'd gotten up to right where she currently was before turning back, unable to make herself take that final step.

' _Just fucking do it. If you don't, you're letting him win. And you'll never be able to help Tom.'_

She raised a trembling hand and pushed open the secret door.

* * *

"Miss Weasley, please stay behind."

Everyone began heading out of the classroom, leaving her alone with Professor Vector.

Ginny glanced down at the homework she'd been given back, the roll of parchment she'd had to write the previous week.

There was no mark on the top of it.

"You should have noticed the lack of a grade on your last assignment by now. It was acceptable, barely, but nowhere near your usual standards. I've also noticed that over the past week or so, you've seemed almost as if you weren't present."

"I'm sorry," Ginny said quickly, "it won't happen again."

"Is everything alright?" Professor Vector asked, her voice suddenly kindly and soft,

The gentle care in her voice was almost enough to set Ginny off, to make her burst into tears.

For a fraction of a second, she debated telling the stern, caring witch everything. To just blurt the truth out, to tell her how she'd had no choice but to go and meet Higgs the night before, how it had been no different to the previous two times she'd had to go to his secret hideout.

She wanted to shout it, how he made her feel like nothing more than a hunk of meat, how he  _used_ her, how she had no choice but to do whatever he wanted, how she'd see him in the Great Hall and she'd taste his seed in the back of her throat and then would barely be able to force food down her gullet.

She wanted to explain how it was her own fault for being stupid, how it was really Potter's fault for killing Tom, how she was a disgusting monster who deserved no better than Higgs' treatment.

' _And then you'd be expelled.'_

"Doing better now," she said, "I forgot my moon potion last week. The first time I forgot since-since it started."

Vector winced.

"That can certainly be a traumatic experience," she said, "especially if you're used to the potion. Sometimes, I wonder how Muggle women manage it."

' _The same way animals do,'_ she thought snidely.

"You should know, Madam Pomfrey has some potions that while not as effective as the usual one, can still help, even if taken once it's begun. But I don't think you'll need my admonishment to remember in the future."

"No, Professor."

"Well, you have until the next lesson to redo your essay. I expect it to be in fitting with the rest of your work."

"I'll-I'll try, Professor. Thank you."

"Not at all," Vector said, smiling brightly, "it's my pleasure."

* * *

She leaned against the wall, her wand slippery and warm.

Her eyes were wide, a jubilant grin stretching her lips.

The desk still stood where she'd place it, directly across the room from her.

A hole the thickness of her arm had been neatly drilled through it, the wood around the incision scorched and scuffed.

For the first time ever, she'd managed one of the spells from the Restricted Section on the first try.

It had been as easy as casting a Lumos.

She'd done nothing to prepare her emotions for it. Nothing other than allowing her mind to dwell on Higgs.

She glanced down at the length of wood in her hand.

' _Tom had a Yew wand too. He said you'd be powerful.'_

' _If I'm so powerful, how come I lose my courage whenever I see him?'_

' _Maybe,'_ the voice whispered,  _'maybe if you would just practice a bit more, maybe you'd be able to deal with him. No one knows about that room. You could just leave him there, no one would ever find him.'_

"I can't," she whispered back, "I can't do that. I can't k-kill him."

' _Why not? Are you content to be his little toy? If you won't deal with him, then you deserve whatever comes.'_

She bit her lip hard, the joy of her success draining away.

' _You need to practice on something. Something better than a stupid frog.'  
_

"No," she muttered, shaking her head furiously, "no, I can't. I won't,"

She couldn't do that again, not after seeing Neville's weepy face.

' _Tom would be disgusted with you. One day you'll meet him again, and he will be. You could stop it, and you're too weak to even try. You really are sickening.'_

"I know."

* * *

She rocked back and forth with his motion, her jaw clamped down on the scream that kept trying to escape.

It felt like he was going to split her in two as he thrust even deeper into her. His hands squeezed her tits tightly, but that was barely a speck compared to the burning agony spreading from her groin.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, locking her tears within.

She'd never imagined her first time would be anything like this. Never in her worst nightmares had she thought it would be anything like this.

Her lungs felt constricted, barely obeying her desperate need for air.

Without warning, he slapped her, his hand whipping across her face.

"Don't just lie there," he grunted, spittle spraying the burning palm print on her cheek, "Fucking do something!"

"I-please-I don't-"

"Stop fucking crying!" He ordered, his hand colliding with her on the other cheek, "bitch!"

She began to move along with the rhythm, every motion of her hips sending a fresh wave of pain through her.

"That's it. Oh fuck, that's it. Keep on-don't stop! Don't stop, whore!"

She started crying again, but he didn't seem to mind this time.

* * *

"You just keep on getting better," Colin said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "I really don't know how you do it."

She shrugged, looking away from him.

' _I get better because I keep practising, you stupid maggot.'_

"I wish I could do this more often," he said morosely, "but it was hard enough getting away from Dennis today. He really wanted to know where I was going."

"It's fine," she said, "I'd prefer it more often, but what can you do?"

' _Why don't you just use the Mudblood as practice for Higgs?'_

"Do you want to come with me to Hogsmeade?"

She turned around suddenly, surprised.

Colin blushed, looking at his feet.

' _He wants you for the same reason Higgs does. You're nothing but a body to them.'_

' _He doesn't!'_

"If you're not planning on going with anyone else," Colin added, "I think it could be fun."

' _Even if he does want you for that, it still could be useful. It'll distract them all from how withdrawn you've been.'_

"I'd love to," She said, and Colin's face shone with joy.

* * *

"So?" Priscilla asked, "What do you think, Ginny?"

She blinked, her hand stopping its mindless twitching against her bathrobes.

"Um-"

"The First Task," Priscilla continued impatiently, "What do you think they'll be doing?"

"I really don't know," she said, "it could be anything, I guess."

"Well, we only have a week left to try and figure it out. I do so hope that Cedric's got a nice plan, whatever it is."

Her mind began to wonder again, as her roommates continued talking out their guesses for what the task would be and how the Champions would manage.

She couldn't be bothered to even try and get involved. Terrence had cornered her again that morning, telling her to be at their meeting place at a quarter to eleven.

She felt a bit envious, listening to the childish prattle around her.

None of them knew what it was like. They didn't have to happily go to be insulted, slapped, bitten, and defiled.

They didn't have to do whatever a disgustingly perverted boy wanted.

They didn't wish that they were strong enough to just kill him.

She turned her face away, watching the clock beside her bed tick away the time until she'd have to meet him again.

* * *

She sat curled up on a couch, the flickering flames from the fireplace lighting up the room.

The first few times that she'd had to do what he wanted, she'd come back to the Common Room weeping, feeling disgusting, feeling like she was carrying a gross disease. She'd barely been able to keep from vomiting whenever she thought about it, those first few times.

Now she sat, watching the flames and feeling utterly empty.

It was a far more all-encompassing emptiness than she'd felt, even after Potter had killed Tom.

This took over everything, numbing all emotion.

Even the thought of how well her spell practice had been going did nothing to break through the emptiness.

She pictured it to be a deep black pit in her belly, one that would grow and grow and keep growing until there was nothing left of her.

' _If you don't do anything about it, you deserve it to happen. You could stop it. All you need to do is practice first. You could use that Parerum curse, make him kill himself or something like that. You could do it.'_

Minor movement caught her eye, her head snapping instinctively around.

Hermione's cat had joined her in the empty room. It walked forward, coming to a stop in front of her couch where it stretched its back and lay down in front of the fire.

' _Perfect. Just take a few hairs from it. That's all you need.'_

She reached out toward Crookshanks and stopped, her hand suddenly trembling violently.

Neville had been distraught, since what she'd done with Trevor. He'd searched the Common room multiple times, tearing the place apart in his frantic hunt. He'd put signs up and asked people.

And, obviously, he hadn't found his toad.

' _So the Mudblood will have her feelings hurt, so what? You need this! Not just to deal with him, but to be useful for Tom. You need this!'_

"I know," she whispered.

' _So? Do it!'_

Her hand wouldn't obey when she tried to stretch it out onto Crookshanks. It just continued to hover there, a few inches above the resting cat.

' _Weak. You deserve whatever he does to you.'_

"I know," she repeated.

* * *

"Are you excited for the Task tomorrow?"

"Not really," she said, keeping her attention focused on the lake, "what about you?"

"Very," Luna said, "I'm sure it will be spectacular."

She grunted, pushing her scarf back up against the wind.

"Have I done something wrong?" Luna suddenly asked.

"No!"

She turned to face Luna, shock running through her when she saw the tears in her friend's eyes.

"Why would you think you have?"

"You've been so-so untalkative lately," Luna said, "I thought you'd...gotten sick of me."

"Never," Ginny said, pulling Luna into a hug, "never. I just-there's something going on. I don't want to talk about it."

Luna accepted that perfectly well, simply hugging Ginny back tightly.

"If you want," she said, "you can. I don't mind, whatever it is."

' _You would. If you knew what a weak whore I am, you'd hate me. Just like everyone else would.'_

"Thanks," she said, her voice choked with thick emotion.

"Is it anything to do with Colin?"

"No."

"Oh. I thought...after you went to Hogsmeade with him, I thought maybe he wanted to be your-your boyfriend, or something like that."

"No. Colin's been a perfect gentleman. Not too pushy or anything like that."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Her heart broke, the genuine love in Luna's voice as apparent as anything she'd ever heard.

"Just-just keep on being my friend. Even if I'm difficult to be around."

"Oh, Ginny."

Luna hugged her again, tighter than before.

"You could never be difficult to be around," she said admonishingly, "I just wish I could help with whatever it is."

"I need to take care of it myself," she said.

As she did so, she realized something.

' _This can't go on much longer. I need to take care of him, somehow.'_

' _How could you do that if you aren't willing to hurt him?'_

* * *

"That was amazing!" Evelyn gushed, "Did you see how it almost got him?"

"I know! I don't think I've ever seen such flying!"

"I was sure the dragon had him," Priscilla said, "when it hit him with its tail."

"Maybe he'll actually win," Evelyn said, "wouldn't that be incredible?"

' _You stupid bitches,'_ she thought angrily, fluffing her pillow with slightly more force than was strictly necessary,  _'two days ago you were saying how unfair it is that he got into the Tournament! Now you're supporting him?'_

"He definitely was the best of the lot," Jasmine said, "I can't believe how blatantly biased Karkaroff was!"

"Did you think he'd fly, Ginny?" Evelyn asked, "It didn't even cross my mind."

"Me neither," she admitted, pulling herself into their conversation. "Looks like Krum didn't think of it either."

"What would they have done if one of the dragons actually had killed one of them?"

' _I don't know about anyone else, but I'd have cheered. If it was Potter, at least.'_

* * *

The boiling water poured down her face, making the fresh cuts on her tits sting.

She angled her face up into the shower's stream, wishing that she felt enough to cry.

She hadn't cried for what felt like ages. Hadn't laughed, or honestly smiled.

She'd barely felt anything.

She'd thought that it would get easier, the more she did it. She thought she'd get used to it, that she'd be able to handle what she needed to do to keep her secrets safe.

She'd thought that it would get easier to act like everything was alright.

But every time she met him, it got worse.

Every time he fucked her, he was worse. His slaps came far more frequently, on her face, ass, stomach. His insults flowed more freely.

And the worse he got, the harder everything else became.

She wished that someone would notice, that someone would realize that she was trapped in a nightmare.

She wished it, but she just couldn't allow them to see.

The very thing she'd spent the last year working for, getting into a pattern that would keep everyone's attention off of her; that was making it far less likely for anyone to tell that she was slowly losing her mind.

The Triwizard Tournament only helped make her invisible. Everyone else was far too busy caring about the stupid competition to even spare a thought for her.

Even her brothers had all but forgotten her. Ron was almost too grumpy to really talk to anyone, ever since Potter had joined the tournament, and Fred and George were even more preoccupied than usual.

The teachers were all busy with the stupid tournament.

And she was more alone than she'd ever been, Tom's absence more overwhelming than ever.

She could imagine the conversations with Tom all she liked, but she still didn't actually have him.

She didn't have anyone, not anyone who could help.

' _So you've got to do it yourself. Stop being all stupid about it and kill Higgs already.'_

"I can't," she whispered, the sound of the running water drowning out her words, "I just can't."

' _Eventually, you're going to give in and just do it. You know you will. Why cause so much unnecessary pain to yourself? Just do it already.'_

"I can't be sure that it'll work. I can't. If I try and it fails, it'll be even worse."

' _So practice on a fucking animal!'_

"If it gets worse," she sighed, "I will. I don't want to, but I will."

' _You said that you would either way. To learn how to best help Tom. You said you would.'_

"I-after Trevor-I don't-"

' _Disgusting. You're disgusting.'_

"If it gets much worse," she said, "I will."

' _You need to do it either way. You'll never be able to fight a person if you can't kill even kill an animal.'_

She sighed again, staring up into the stream and wishing that she could just feel anything.

* * *

Colin walked out of the classroom, pale-faced and shaking, wearing an odd, weak grin.

Immediately, the crowd of waiting students pounced.

"What was it?"

"Was it hard?"

"Did he help?"

Colin just shook his head at them.

"It won't be the same for you guys as it was for me," he said, "that's not how it works. And he didn't really help, but he was standing just a little bit away. If you need, he'll help."

The door opened again, Moody's voice calling the next student in.

"Good luck!"

"Was it ok?" She asked, grabbing Colin just as he made to walk past her.

He shrugged. "Almost took me too long to figure out how to make it funny. But I managed. Could have gone worse."

She nodded, releasing his arm.

"We're on tonight?" He whispered, "I did all my homework so far, so it works for me."

She cast her gaze around the rest of their classmates.

None of them were paying any attention to her and Colin, instead all staring at the classroom door with similar attentive expressions.

All of them trying to imagine what their boggart would be and how to fight it.

"I don't think tonight," she whispered back with a pang, wishing that she'd be able to spend the evening duelling with Colin instead of serving Higgs' perverse desires. "I've got a few things to do. Maybe tomorrow?"

He nodded, his face gaining a bit of colour back.

"Good luck with it," he said, jerking his head toward the door. "Although I can't imagine you'll have any issues."

One by one, the waiting crowd thinned as Moody called them in, until eventually, it was just Ginny, Jasmine, and Priscilla.

The door opened a few minutes after Roger Urquhart had left the room, and Moody's voice filtered out into the corridor.

"Weasley, you're up."

"Good luck," Priscilla and Jasmine said as Ginny entered the class.

All the desks and chairs had been swept aside, piled neatly in the corner.

Moody stood near one wall, his wand out and aimed at the battered trunk lying in the centre of the room.

As she entered, the trunk gave a lurch.

"You know what it'll turn into for you?"

She gave a shrug.

"Not quite sure, Professor."

His regular eye focused on her, the magical one still trained on the trunk.

"No idea?"

"Not really."

"Well, first things first. How do you deal with a boggart?"

"Concentrate on a funny version of whatever form it's taken," she said automatically, "and then do the charm."

"And the Charm is?"

"Riddikulus."

"Good. Good. Tell me when you're ready, and I'll let it out. I'll be standing by in case of any issues."

"Professor?" She asked, her wand still dangling by her side. "What does the boggart look like? I mean, now, when it's in the trunk."

His magical eye swivelled toward her for a moment before returning to its vigil.

"Wouldn't you know," he said, "you're the first Gryffindor to ask that. Take five points."

She just stood there, waiting for him to finish the meaningless praise and actually answer.

"Imagine a hairless monkey. Now imagine it's made out of mist, and that it keeps losing and regaining its shape. That's what the boggart looks like now."

She nodded, gripping her wand.

"I'm ready."

The trunk shot open, a formless mass erupting from it.

It seemed to hover in mid-air for a moment, before giving a loud crack.

And Terrence Higgs stood in front of her.

She hadn't even processed the sight, hadn't thought of what she could do before it gave another crack, changing its shape.

Her heart lurched, a strange hopeful sensation warming her belly.

The boggart had become Tom.

She recognized him immediately, even though his appearance was different.

He was taller than he'd appeared to her, his feature looking like they'd been made from wax that had begun to run. His eyes were blood red, his robes seeming to be created out of pure darkness.

And he sneered at her, a look of utter disdain twisting his perfect face.

"Weak," He said, none of the warmth he'd shown to her before evident in his voice. "Weak. Useless little girl."

She fell to her knees with her wand dropping from suddenly limp fingers, all her lessons about the boggart and the watching presence of her Professor forgotten.

"Disgusting," Tom snarled, taking a step toward her. "A disgusting little failure."

She tried to speak, tried to force an apology through her lips.

Her mouth had gone too dry for words to form, her voice catching in her throat.

' _It's not really him! It's just a boggart! Just a boggart! Fight it!'_

Her thoughts ran sluggishly, Tom's face filling the entire world.

He took another step forward, his hand stretching out toward her.

She was helpless to do anything but wait for him to punish her.

Without warning, the boggart cracked again, flying apart into a cloud of mist and hurtling back into the trunk.

She didn't move, not even as Moody clunked his way toward her.

She'd been so close. It hadn't been Tom, but it was the closest thing she'd experienced for two years.

It hadn't been Tom, but it had sounded like him, had looked like him.

"C'mon," Moody said roughly, "you're alright. Get up, girl."

She stood, looking anywhere but at her professor's face.

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?" He asked, his voice gentler than she'd have thought he was capable of.

She shook her head, her eyes tightly closed, tears somehow still escaping her lids.

He sighed, clunking his way across the room.

"If you do," he said, "you know where to find me. No one will find out what happened here. No one will find out anything you tell me."

"Thanks," she whispered.

For a long few minutes, he said nothing.

"Ok," he sighed, "we're done here. I can't help if you won't let me. You can leave."

She did, feeling his gaze on her back even as she left the corridor and escaped toward her room.

* * *

He continued to knead her tits, nuzzling against the back of her neck.

She just lay there impassively, her open eyes seeing nothing of the wall ahead of her, the feel of his come running down her legs not bothering her.

The bite on her shoulder still stung, but she showed no signs of discomfort, not even when he ran his tongue over it.

He played with her body and she let her mind wander, her experience with the boggart from earlier that day playing over and over again in her head.

He squeezed her nipple suddenly, twisting it painfully to the side. As he did so, he pushed up against her, his cock rubbing against her ass.

She felt it twitch and knew that it would soon be hard again, that he'd be wanting another round soon enough.

She shivered, moaning slightly as he pulled on her other nipple. He liked it when she moaned.

"I've been thinking," he said, the leer in his voice worse than his teeth on her flesh, "it's a shame that I only have you till the end of the year. Don't you think?"

' _No! No! It ends then, it ends when he leaves, that's it!'_

' _It'll never end. Not unless you make it end. If you ever want Tom to be proud of you, you'll end it.'_

"Don't you think?" He repeated, twisting her nipple hard enough to elicit a groan of pain from her.

"It is a shame," she said.

"I agree. Of course, who knows what will be next year, right? Maybe we'll be able to continue here and there, maybe not. But I've had an idea of how we can make the end of the year really special."

"Oh?"

' _I don't care, I don't want to know, just stop! I'm going to do it, you're going to make me do it! I don't want to kill you!'_

"Every year," he said, "the outgoing Slytherin seventh years throw a party. Sixth years get invited. Of course, the seventh years provide everything. Food, drink. Entertainment. So I think I'll provide you."

He pushed up against her, his cock hardening against her crack.

"Something like this," he said.

There was a rustling of paper, and one of his terrible magazines was being pushed in front of her face. It was one of the Muggle magazines. And it showed a woman on all fours wearing nothing but a collar and leash around her neck, surrounded by six or seven naked men.

There was a man taking her from behind, another caught in the middle of thrusting into her mouth. The others stood around her, clearly stroking themselves.

"I think we could do something like this," he said, pushing up against her again, clearly fully hard now. "Wouldn't you like that? I'd even transfigure your face and voice, so that no one has to know who our little whore is. That would be a nice goodbye present for me. I'm sure you'd even like it. What do you think?"

She closed her eyes, his thrusts against her becoming quicker and harder, his hands pulling more roughly.

He would make her do it, she knew. She'd have no choice.

' _You have a choice. You can stop it. Unless you're too weak to do what needs to be done.'_

"I said: what do you think?"

Facing away from him, his cock rubbing up against her lower back, his hands pawing her chest, Ginny made up her mind.

Her eyes shot open, invisible rage burning deep within.

"I'd love it," she said in what she hoped was a sultry voice.

"Good girl," he said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her onto her back.

' _This is all your fault. Whatever I do, it's your own fucking fault. Why couldn't you just have left me alone?'_

* * *

"There you are," she said, squatting down against the wall, "you've been very difficult to find, you know."

Mrs Norris glared at her mistrustfully, her eyes gleaming in the dark.

"I know, I know. It's after curfew. I am on the way back to my dorm now. You don't need to worry."

The cat just stared at her, its tail flicking from side to side.

The stickiness between her legs had faded after her shower, the teeth marks on her shoulder and tits removed with a few healing charms.

But the flames that Higgs had ignited in her belly still burned, the cold certainly that had coated her mind still remained to guide her.

She wasn't going to be his good little whore, not for much longer. Not if there was anything she could do about it.

Mrs Norris seemed to shrink for a second as Ginny's hand reached toward her, entering into a pouncing position.

"I'm just going to stroke you," she said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

No teeth flew for her hand, no claws shooting out to scratch her.

She rubbed her hand through the cat's fur, pushing gently on the flesh beneath.

"See?" She said, as a soft purring filled the air, "I knew you'd like it."

She stayed like that for a few minutes, running her hand all over the cat, scratching behind its ears and over the top of its head.

When she pulled her hand away, Mrs Norris butted up against it, clearly trying to get her to continue. Only when a few minutes passed without her doing so did the cat leave, shooting a disdainful look at her over its shoulder as it wandered away.

She wasn't going to put up with Higgs' demands anymore, not if she had a way to remove them.

And as she looked at the cat hairs in her hand, she knew she would soon have just that.


	12. Third year, part four

The clump of short black hairs seemed to glitter in soft light, standing out starkly against her white bedsheet.

She stared at them, maintaining the slow, deep rhythm of her breathing, keeping her mind focused.

' _This needs to work,'_ she thought, pushing down her rising panic, forcing her hand to keep from shaking.  _'This needs to work.'_

She banished the stray thoughts, following the book's instructions perfectly, filling her mind with the image of Mrs Norris under her complete control.

"Parerium!" She whispered, tapping the bundle of cat hair with her wand.

She felt it immediately, her mind seeming to suddenly split in two.

It was far and beyond the strangest sensation she'd ever experienced, much weirder than her oddest dream.

Through her one set of eyes, she could see the cat hairs sitting on her bed. She could hear her roommates' soft snoring, could feel a cold breeze blowing through the window Jasmine insisted on leaving slightly open.

At the very same time, she could herself reflected in a patch of stone wall shimmering in the moonlight, could hear Filch muttering. Mrs Norris' thoughts registered in her mind, as if in a separate compartment of her thoughts.

' _Stop walking,'_ she ordered, and with a rising sense of giddiness, she watched, seeing through the cat's eyes as it stopped its movements.

She heard Filch asking what she'd seen, and she giggled, cramming her fist in her mouth so as not to disturb her roommates.

The cat stood stock-still, not moving even when Filch told it to.

She could feel its mind trying to fight, but in a way that she knew she'd never be able to explain, she  _overwhelmed_  it, her own will crushing Mrs Norris' attempts to act.

' _Walk,'_ she commanded,  _'walk normally.'_

And Mrs Norris obeyed.

She watched through the cat's eyes as it walked, making it stop again when Filch was walking past a broom closet.

At her order, Mrs Norris stared at the door and began to growl.

She bit down on her hand to mask a stronger spate of giggling when Filch tore the closet open, clearly expecting to find someone there.

She heard his voice again, still sounding distant but clear.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" He asked, puzzled, reaching out and scratching his cat's head.

' _Bite him.'_

The cat put up its strongest resistance of the night, its mind straining to keep from acting out her wishes.

Ruthlessly, Ginny crushed it, just repeating herself into its mind.

' _Bite him.'_

In the same strange way that she'd been seeing through the cat's eyes, she felt as it sunk its teeth deep into Filch's flabby hand, tasting the blood spurting into its mouth.

He yelped, ripping his arm away and howling.

She ended the curse, hurriedly stuffing her face into her pillow before she burst out laughing.

Damn, but it felt good to laugh. It'd been far too long since she'd really laughed, far too long since she'd done anything other than fake a smile.

Now, the trauma of Higgs's actions and suggestion had been forgotten, pushed aside by her enormous success.

Her heart was racing, but unlike how it had been for the last several weeks, it didn't make her feel anxious.

It made her feel like she'd just been running, like she'd been playing a game and had won.

It made her  _feel_ again.

' _Well done. Well done. You'll need to practice more before you are ready to actually act against him, but this has been a good start. You should be proud of yourself. Tom would be.'_

She smiled, hiccupping laughter still bubbling out of her as she carefully put the cat's hairs in her bedside drawer.

' _Keep practising, and before you know it you'll be ready to deal with him. Before you know it, it'll be over.'  
_

"I will," she promised, snuffing out her candle and sinking into bed.

She fell into the easiest and deepest sleep she'd had since being caught in the Restricted Section.

* * *

She finished copying down the complicated diagrams from the board and stared at the notations on her parchment, still trying to keep from giggling.

Before making her way down to breakfast that morning, she'd tested the cat hairs again, unsure if the curse would work on the same hairs more than once.

It had. Mrs Norris had been sleeping, but she'd made the cat open her eyes and look around.

Filch's arm had been trailing off of his bed, a bandage wrapped around his hand.

She'd debated making the cat scratch him, or maybe bite him again.

In the end, she'd decided against it, regretfully ending the curse and leaving her room with a spring in her step.

Even seeing Higgs at breakfast hadn't been enough to ruin her good mood. She'd winked back at him, the knowledge that she'd soon be able to end his playing with her filling her with energy.

For the first time since he'd accosted her, she'd eaten a full breakfast and it hadn't tasted like ash.

Her first lesson had only served to continue her mirthful feelings. As she'd walked in, she'd seen McGonagall and had a sudden, mad mental image of forcing Mrs Norris to lick her Transfiguration Professor when she next was in her Animagus form.

The lesson itself had gone smoothly. For all that she'd been extremely out of things for the last few weeks, she'd still done enough reading ahead to be able to keep up, and to keep up well.

The bell rang and McGonagall gave a flick of her wand, making the papers fly from everyone's desks to her own.

"I would like everyone's attention, please."

Ginny stopped her fiddling with her bag's straps, lifting her head up.

"The sign-up sheet to remain in the castle over the holidays will be posted today," McGonagall said, "while, of course, you are permitted to return home, it is advisable to stay for the winter break. If you have not signed up by the end of the week, it will be assumed that you will be taking the Hogwarts Express back to London on Sunday."

"Is it true about the Yule Ball?" Asked Jasmine excitedly.

"It is," McGonagall said with a sniff, "It is also true that students from your year and below will not be allowed to attend, unless you are in the company of an older student."

Half the class looked crestfallen at that, the rest with their excitement unchanged.

' _Idiots. Do you think they actually care about you? They'll just want to use you.'_

"Regardless of your attendance at the Ball, there will be much activity here. It is the holidays, and as such it will be a chance for you all to...relax from the pressures of term and enjoy yourselves."

"Nevertheless," she continued with another sniff, "I must impress upon all of you that should you choose to remain, you will be acting as ambassadors for Hogwarts. You will be expected to maintain a respectable level of behaviour at all times."

"Professor?" Evelyn asked, "What will we do if we don't go to the ball?"

' _Use that time productivity, idiot.'_

"There will be a regular feast for the students not attending the ball. I assure you, even if you do not have an older student to take you to the ball, you will have plenty to keep yourselves occupied with."

' _Definitely. Everything will be easier then anyways, with them all at the stupid party.'_

* * *

With the official announcement of the Yule Ball, a quiet flurry of activity overtook the school.

All the other girls were obsessed with being invited to the ball, spending all their time talking about how best to get noticed by older boys and to attract their attention.

Ginny tried to avoid those conversations as much as possible. She took part in them, of course, if only so that the others wouldn't start to wonder about her lack of interest, but she knew all too well that being noticed by an older boy was not a good thing.

She did notice Dean Thomas staring at her a few times over the course of the week. She must not have piqued his interest enough though, because he asked Evelyn to the ball. Jasmine and Priscilla would be going with two Ravenclaw fourth year's, Michael Corner and Terry Boot.

No one asked Ginny during that week. While the other girls were busy talking loudly in the Common Room and making sure that the boys saw them, Ginny was busy.

Her roommates' preoccupation gave her a lot more time alone in the room, and she used it well.

She spent almost all of her free time that week sitting on her bed with her eyes unfocused, controlling a cat's body from afar.

It was almost absurd, how easy it was. Oh, it was harder to make Mrs Norris do something that was really against her instincts, like bite Filch or ram her head against a wall, but the cat still didn't put up nearly enough of a fight to make Ginny give up. So far, the cat hadn't once managed to break her control.

Not only that, but Ginny had been trying to manage to control the cat while using her own body for something simple, like walking or showering. That was far more difficult than making it bite its squib master.

Invariably, those attempts would leave her with a terrible sense of confusion and a pounding headache.

Still, her ability at using the curse was only growing.

Which was precisely what she needed. She'd only have one chance to use it on Higgs. If he managed to break her control and figure out what she was doing…

Even just thinking about that made her want to be sick, incredible feeling of success or not. She knew, somehow, that if she tried to use the curse on him and failed, his reaction would make everything he'd done until then seem loving and kind.

' _So you'll do whatever you can to prevent that. Gather as many ingredients as you can from his body, do it when he's asleep to decrease the chances of him fighting back. And practice making an animal kill itself first.'_

* * *

"Did anyone ask you to the ball?" Luna asked, effortlessly pushing the string through the hole in the top of the bright yellow radish.

"No," she said. "Not yet, at least. You?"

"One of the fifth years did," Luna said casually, "but I think it was a joke. I saw him pointing at me and laughing with a few of his friends after."

Ginny winced, her sudden movement making the string in her hand miss the hole entirely.

"Don't worry about it," Luna said, clearly noticing her discomfort, "I told you I don't mind."

"You should," Ginny insisted, slowly pushing the string forward again.

"Maybe. But I just don't."

Luna gently placed the radish on the pile, grabbing a fresh one and a new piece of string.

"Well," Ginny said, "what did you say to him anyway?"

"I told him that it was very kind of him to offer, but I always spend the holidays with my father, and that I was very much looking forward to that."

Ginny cursed under her breath as her string slipped again.

"Here," Luna said, putting aside her own radish, "let me help."

Her hands were soft on Ginny's, her touch gentle and warm.

For a second, Ginny thought she would burst out crying.

' _Stop it,'_ she scolded herself, ' _what's wrong with you?'_

"There we go," Luna murmured, neatly tying a knot in the string.

"What are you gonna do with all these?"

"Hang them over our beds," she said, "Daddy says it's best not to use magic in the making or hanging of them. They're to disrupt negative auras, so using magic can interfere with their abilities."

"Ah."

"A bunch of them are for you," Luna continued. "You just hang them from your bedposts. Daddy says the best is if you can hum a happy tune while you do it."

"I'll try."

"I hope they help. Did you manage to sort out that thing that was bothering you?"

She looked up sharply. Luna looked back, totally guileless, her face bright with interested care.

"I think so. Not quite yet, but it's getting there."

The radish dropped from Luna's hands as she suddenly threw them around Ginny, pulling her into a tight hug.

Again, that urge to weep rose in her.

"I'm so glad," Luna whispered, "I thought you seemed better, but I was so worried that I was wrong."

' _What would she say if she knew how I was planning on dealing with it?'_

"I hope it doesn't take too much longer. I'd rather not see you looking as pained as you were after the break."

"I'm sure I can sort it out by the end of break."

' _Would she still be encouraging me if she knew what I'm going to do?'_

' _She'd despise you. But Tom would understand, and you know very well that he would approve.'_

* * *

"Fancy a game of chess?"

She raised her nose from the parchment, dropping her quill from an aching hand.

"Sorry, Ron," she said, gesturing to her half-completed number chart, "I really wanted to get this done by the end of term."

He made a show of checking the clock above the fireplace before turning back to her. "Well you've got about forty hours left, and a game of chess shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

"I've also got a bunch of Runes to do…"

"Come on. It's been ages since we played. And I'll probably just hang around here bothering you. Besides, the only homework they give this close to the holidays is meant to be done over the break."

She shrugged, giving up and rolling the parchment into a tube.

"But if you get the holiday homework done in term," she said, "then you have a real break. I'll play, but you're white."

He groaned, but she quickly beat him down.

It was only a few minutes later that she was cursing under her breath as one of Ron's knights took one of here rooks.

"What're Arithmancy and Runes actually like? Every time I ask Hermione, she starts rattling off the theory behind them."

"They're...not as cool as I was expecting," she admitted, still staring at the board, "I mean, there's a lot you can use them for, but we just finished learning the runic alphabet, and we've barely actually moved past basic theory in Arithmancy."

"Arithmancy's kind of like Divination right?"

She moved a pawn before answering, making Ron hiss through his teeth.

"That's one of the things you can use it for. It also goes into the theory of basically every type of magic out there. But we only just started simple addition."

"Never tell Hermione this," he said, "but I sometimes almost wish I'd taken one of them instead of Divination. Bunch of garbage."

"Only almost?"

"Well, you guys do have much more work than us, and you can't just make it up."

"No, we can't," she said, raising a hand to her mouth and giggling slightly as she imagined Professor Vector's horrified expression if she'd ever dare try something like that.

Conversation petered out slightly as the game got more intense, although their concentration was still broken every few minutes by a random question one of them had just thought of.

By the time the game finished, almost two hours had passed, with them having gotten into a twenty-minute argument about whether Professor Binns had been as boring when he was alive. Ginny was of the firm opinion that he must have had more life in his class if he was more, well, alive, while Ron believed that it had to take a particularly dull person to spend their afterlife teaching history.

She didn't think about Tom once they had really gotten into the game, didn't think about Higgs or her reading in the Restricted Section or her spell practice, didn't think about what she was planning on doing.

She just relaxed, forgetting the world and focusing on the game of chess and her conversations with her brother.

She sighed heavily as Ron announced Checkmate and the game finished, reality settling in on her again. It was almost dinner, and she had plans to go to the Restricted Section after Curfew, provided Higgs didn't demand her presence.

"Whatever happened to that game your friend lent you?"

"Her father's trying to modify it," she said, grinning despite herself, "he's had an idea to replace the knights with centaurs, but he hasn't decided on how they'll be moving yet."

Ron had an odd expression on his face, like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or shout.

"That's nice," he said finally, "why don't you borrow it again when she gets it back?"

"Maybe I will."

"You should. I can't believe how little time we actually spend doing this type of thing."

She squirmed, her insides suddenly writhing with guilt.

' _It's his fault,'_ the Tom-like voice suddenly said,  _'almost as much as it is Potter's. He helped stop you from carrying out Tom's plan, and you're going to hang out with him?'_

She ignored it, determined to keep that quickly evaporating feeling of utter contentment for as long as she could.

"It's not so strange," she said lightly, "you're usually with your friends, and I with mine."

"Still," He said, "you're my sister."

She opened her mouth to say something and experienced a bizarre sensation that if she tried to talk she would burst into tears instead.

' _Why don't you tell him what you're planning on doing with your life? That's what siblings do. Tell him you want to help Tom however you can. Tell him you want to help Voldemort. Fuck it, just tell him that you murdered the idiot's toad.'_

"Is everything alright?" He asked, peering closely at her face.

' _Tell him the truth. See if he still wants to hang out with you then. Or if he'll even come and visit you in Azkaban.'_

"Just a cramp," she said.

"You want me to bring you dinner?"

She shook her head, standing up, hoping against hope that he couldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"I'll come to get some myself. I've got a potion in my room to take first."

"I'll see you down there, then," he said, clapping her on the shoulder, "don't take too long or I won't have left anything for you."

She smiled weakly, wondering if her roommates had gone down already or if she'd have to use the knife in the bathroom.

* * *

On the first day of holidays, Neville approached her awkwardly in the Common Room his face trembling and sickly green.

She almost dropped her Transfiguration textbook, her stomach giving a lurch as she caught sight of him.

She'd been avoiding him ever since she'd killed Trevor, terrified that he'd see something on her face, that he'd somehow pick up on what she'd done.

For a horrific moment, she stared at him, her mind wiped blank by the terrible certainty that he'd found out and was coming to confront her.

Then her heart started again and thought returned, and she remembered that it was Neville, Neville who didn't have two brain cells to run together, and who wouldn't have had the courage to approach her alone even if he'd caught on.

"Hi G-Ginny," he said, his hands twirling mindlessly around each other.

"Hi."

"I was just w-wondering if maybe-if you aren't going with someone else already, m-maybe you'd like to-to go the ball with me?"

She just stared at him, a hysterical cackle sounding in the back of her mind.

Go with him? She'd murdered his toad, something she was convinced had been his only friend, murdered it and threw it in the lake, and now he wanted her to go to the ball with him?

' _Of course he wants you. He can sense that you're weak, that you're already used goods. He thinks you'll be an easier target for him than anyone else. And even if he isn't thinking that, would you really be able to stomach his company? He might as well be a squib!'_

"I'm not sure," she said, "I might be going with someone, but I'm not sure yet. Sorry, Neville. You should probably ask someone else."

He nodded, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally got it to work.

"Do you know if Hannah's going with anyone?"

"Hannah Abbot?"

Neville nodded, flushing a bright pink.

"No idea. Sorry."

"It's all right. Hope it turns out well, whoever asked you."

As he turned to leave, something possessed her to ask: "any luck with Trevor?"

"No," he said, his lower lip trembling, "I think he must've…Great-Uncle Algie said he'd get me another toad, but it won't be the same. I really got used to Trevor, you know?"

She nodded, feeling as dreamlike as when she'd killed the stupid thing.

"Maybe he'll still turn up?" She suggested.

"I doubt it," Neville sighed, "but you never know."

After he left, she stared at the fireplace for nearly a half-hour, ignoring Crookshanks' soft meowing as he played with something under the couch.

* * *

"So, is someone taking you to the ball?"

"Not yet."

He rubbed his hand over her ass, gripping her flesh tightly.

She smiled at him, picturing what it would be like when she'd finally practised enough to do the curse on him.

She was sitting on his lap facing him, the wood of the armchair groaning as he pulled her over him.

He was still soft, but she knew it'd only be a matter of minutes before he wanted another go.

' _It doesn't matter. Soon enough it will all be over. Then maybe you can just burn this fucking room down.'_

"Good," he said, pulling her closer to his chest, "I wouldn't want anyone else touching my little whore."

Once, she'd have started to cry at hearing herself referred to like that.

Now she just smiled, looking him in the eye and imagining his roommates finding his corpse.

"You're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"My what?"

"Your little whore."

He moved his hands suddenly, seizing a nipple in each and  _twisting_ so hard that she was sure they'd be pulled off.

She couldn't stop the moan, couldn't stop herself from feeling his cock twitch under her.

"And don't you forget it."

He released her burning tits, dropping his hands to her left thigh.

"You've never told me what this is from."

She looked to where his hands lay, her heart beginning to race.

He was touching it, the pale strip of skin that marked one of the first places she'd really gone to town with the knife, back before she'd mastered the Healing Charm.

It was faded, looking old, but still visible for what it was.

"I fell," she quickly said, "when I was much younger."

"Really? What about this one? And these? And this?"

As he spoke, he poked her with his finger, pushing against the almost invisible scars on her tits, arm, and right thigh.

"What are they from?"

"I-I fell, it was-"

His hands shot out, the one seizing a nipple and twisting it, the other flashing across her face.

His cock twitched again, and she could feel it starting to get hard.

"Don't lie to me. Don't fucking lie to me, bitch. What are they from?"

She stared deeply into his eyes, suddenly more impatient than ever to just do the curse and be free.

"I did them," she said. "I cut myself."

"You're a crazy little bitch," he said, sounding almost appreciative. "Aren't you?"

' _I'm going to kill you.'_

"Yes."

He began to push up against her, his cock fully erect now.

"Say it. Tell me what you are."

' _This is all your own fucking fault.'_

"I'm a crazy little bitch."

"Yes you are," He said, reaching below her and angling himself up toward her entrance. "And you're my crazy little bitch. All mine."

' _This is all your fault. Why couldn't you just have left it after the first time?'_

* * *

She walked back into the Common Room that night, fury boiling within her, the desperate need to ruin him pounding in her veins.

Crookshanks lay in front of the fire, his leg twitching in his sleep.

She didn't hesitate, didn't resist the desire.

She reached out and patted the cat, grabbing as many of the loose hairs that lay in his fur as she could.

* * *

'" _Tom," she wrote, "can I ask you something?"_

_Almost immediately, as if Tom had been waiting for her to write, his words appeared._

" _Of course. You never need to worry about asking me anything. I'll never hold information from you."_

_She ignored the warm feeling that Tom's trust inspired, scratching her quill against the page._

" _What you were talking about the other day, about killing muggles and squibs and muggleborns-"_

_Tom's hurried scrawl began to rise onto the page, interrupting her question._

" _Muggles and squibs and what?"_

_She sighed. Tom had proven to be almost as pedantic as Percy, if only about certain things._

" _Mudbloods."_

" _Yes, I did mention the necessity of a culling if other options failed. What was your question?"_

" _It sounds like-like the things that You-Know-Who wanted to do…"_

" _Perhaps he had the right idea, about some things."_

" _But he was evil!"_

" _What is evil, Ginny?"_

" _I don't know," she wrote, "doing things that are wrong on purpose?"_

" _And who defines what is right or wrong?"_

" _You just know, Tom. You don't need anyone to tell you."_

_Oh, my dear Ginny. Sometimes I forget how young and full of bright innocence you are. Right and wrong are concepts we are raised with. Their definition is ever-changing, dependent upon the whims of society's leaders and circumstances."  
_

" _I don't think so. Some things are always wrong. Killing is wrong, Tom."_

" _Is it? What if a person kills in self-defence? What if a soldier kills in war? Is it wrong then?"_

" _No, but-"_

" _At one point, squibs were killed as soon as their nature was made clear. It was accepted by society, seen as putting them out of their misery. So what changed?"_

" _People realized that what they were doing was wrong."_

" _Alas, no. The Minister for Magic during the end of that period was a highly talented witch by the name of Phyllis Crane. She had one child, a son who she loved more than anything. When her son proved to be a squib, she restrained from euthanizing him. Slowly, other parents followed her example, until the culling of squibs became seen as a cruel act. There was no philosophical discussion leading up to the change, no logical reason given. What happened, Ginny, was that a powerful witch made a decision, and others were too afraid to disregard her wishes. This is how it always is, my dear. The powerful speak, and the weak obey. This is how it should be."_

" _But people still know when they're doing something wrong!"_

" _Right and wrong are entirely subjective terms. If you had been raised hunting muggles on weekends, you would believe it to be the right thing to do. Everyone,_ _ **everyone**_ _believes that what they are doing is right. There is no all defining force of good and evil, Ginny. There are only the views of society, as defined by the powerful."_

" _I don't know. I don't think you're right."_

" _There are Muggle religions who view the eating of meat as a terrible sin. They believe eating meat is wrong. Why do they believe that?"_

" _Because that's what they've always been told?"_

" _Exactly. While you, on the other hand, have been raised enjoying ham and beef. Had you been raised by those people, you would think just like them."_

" _But that's different!"_

" _Is it? We will see, my love. I want you to think about this, and next week, I will give you the names of some reading material to further explain this concept. You will see. There is no good or evil, my dear, only power."_

* * *

Her roommates had finally gone to sleep, their excited conversations about the upcoming ball trailing off into nothingness as sleep claimed them.

She sat up against the wall, staring at the ginger hairs, forcing her breathing to stay calm and even.

This time, she'd remembered to cast the Silencing Charm around her bed. There'd be no need to hide her laughter if it went as well as it had with Mrs Norris.

She hoped that it would go even better.

' _Don't do this! Please, don't do this!'_

' _If you don't, you'll remain his little whore forever. Is that what you want?'_

' _There's got to be another way-'_

' _There isn't. Do it.'_

Slowly, she relaxed, the nervous energy dissipating.

She tapped her wand on the hairs, muttering "Parerium."

It took her a few minutes to parse the enormous load of information and figure out where Crookshanks was.

When she did, she could have danced.

He was out in the grounds, the field mouse that he'd been stalking scurrying away as she made him stay perfectly still.

' _Stop. Stop, end the curse, get rid of the hair. Just stop!'_

She shook her head, banishing the errant thought.

At a silent command, Crookshanks set out, trotting toward the lake.

He paused at the edge of it, staring out at the enormous expanse of water.

It was a cloudless night, the moon a silver ball on the lake's surface.

' _Jump in.'_

She could feel its legs quivering, its mind fighting against her command.

She doubled down, forcing her will upon it.

' _Jump. In.'_

It did.

She gasped, the icy cold of the lake seeming to hit her just as it had the cat.

Her fingers curled into trembling fists as she forced it to stick its head under, to swim through the darkness toward the bottom of the lake.

She could feel the panic rising in the cat's mind as it struggled, fighting with everything against the intruder that had taken control of its body.

But it was weaker than her, and its struggles grew even weaker as a desperate need for oxygen began to pound in its feline brain.

' _Open your mouth and breathe.'_

It did.

For another few seconds, she remained with that split awareness, seeing through the cat's eyes even as it began its death throes.

And then she was cast out, the curse ending as suddenly as it had begun.

She sat there, eyes wide and forehead slick, laughter trying to force its way through her lips.

' _I did it. It worked, it worked, it worked! It worked!'_

' _And it will work on him as well. But you must practice again. If you lose control of him, it will be terrible. You must practice again.'_

"I will," she whispered, her cheek twitching and stretching her terrible grin.

* * *

"It's such a pity that you won't be coming to the ball," Priscilla drawled, pausing for a moment in her makeup application and turning to Ginny, "it really is the experience of a lifetime."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she said.

"Of course you'll be fine, dear, but the regular feast will be such a bore!"

She smiled grimly, a tic starting under her eyebrow. For a moment, she had to fight the urge to whip out her wand and begin flinging whatever curses she could at the stupid bitch.

"I'll find a way to keep myself busy," she said, thinking of the trip she'd planned to the Owlery.

* * *

When she got back from the Owlery, the Common Room was still almost completely quiet.

A few of the boys from her year were there, but it was almost entirely empty.

The ball was apparently still going on.

She rubbed her arm softly, the phantom pain still burning.

She'd decided, in the end, not to use Potter's owl for her next practice, for much the same reasons as she'd decided against using Mrs Norris.

Eventually, Hermione would notice her cat's absence. Between that and Neville's toad, people would start getting worried.

If Potter's owl was to vanish as well, there'd be a panic, just like Filch would lose his mind if his cat were to disappear.

Instead, she'd taken one of the school owls.

It was almost funny, how she'd barely felt a pang as she tore its feather off and cast the spell.

When she'd taken Neville's toad, her conscience had driven her mad, not only while she was doing what she'd done, but for days afterwards.

When she'd drowned Granger's cat, she'd had to fight herself to actually do it, and she'd had nightmares afterwards.

Now she felt nothing but grim satisfaction.

And the strange sensation that she should be covered in bruises.

The same way that she'd felt the chill of the lake through Crookshanks, tonight she'd felt every bash the Whomping Willow had given the poor owl she'd commandeered as she'd forced it to fly into the tree's whipping branches, over and over again until the curse had abruptly ended.

She shivered, rubbing her arm and walking up the staircase.

Still, it was worth it, no matter how much it felt like it should hurt. She'd been far more in control than she had of Crookshanks; the owl hadn't come nearly as close to escaping her mental grip as the cat had.

She paused at the foot of her bed, staring at the thick envelope lying on her pillow.

Unless she was very much mistaken, that was her name in Percy's handwriting.

Three pieces of paper fell out when she opened it.

Her eyes went wide as the picture registered in her mind.

Percy had gotten her a photograph of the Holyhead Harpies. And somehow, he'd gotten it signed by the whole team.

Tears began to drip onto the photograph, and she hurriedly moved it away, noticing as she did that there was writing on the back.

" _Dear Ginny,"_ It said,  _"Happy Christmas! We're always happy to hear that we've inspired young girls. Looking forward to seeing you at a game. Love, Gwenog Jones."_

And again, it had the signatures of the entire team.

Without warning, her stomach gave a lurch and she ran to the bathroom, vomit rising before she even stepped onto the tiles.

By the time she'd cleaned up the mess, she'd stopped crying.

She washed her face and went back to her bed, clutching the photograph reverently and beginning to read Percy's letters, tears welling up in her eyes again.

" _Dear Ginny,_

_I was hoping to give this to you in person at the ball, but our brothers told me that you wouldn't be coming, so I've entrusted it to a house-elf instead. I would have sent an owl ahead to let you know that I would be here, but I only found out this afternoon. Mr Crouch was unable to make it, so he's sent me in his stead!_

_I must say, it's very exciting to be handed such responsibility, albeit a tad intimidating._

_I asked after you, and Professor McGonagall had wonderful things to say. I'm proud of you, Ginny. I really am._

_Love._

_Your brother,_

_Percy."_

She had to wait before reading the longer letter to run back to the bathroom. This time, she made it to the toilet in time.

When she got back, she ignored her freely flowing tears and picked up the second letter.

" _Dear Ginny,_

_I hope you're reading this before looking at the gift enclosed. If you are, please try and open it away from Ronald. I didn't get him anything quite as nice, and I worry he might grow jealous._

_Due to our involvement with the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament, my department (Department of International Magical Cooperation) has been working very closely with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. One of my friends in that department was kind enough to introduce me to several of the Quidditch captains from the British and Irish league. I was lucky enough to have a few minutes to talk with Gwenog Jones, a most remarkable woman. I told her a bit about you, about how you've been supporting the Harpies for years and how you've expressed an interest in the sport, and she was very interested. Besides for the enclosed gift, she also has promised that when next they're having a game during the summer (or Christmas or Easter) break, they will have a seat arranged for you in the top box._

_I'm sorry I've been so shoddy with my writing this term. We're really quite overworked at the moment, particularly with the Triwizard Tournament. From what I've managed to glean from Mum and Dad however, things are going well for you. I can't express how glad I am to hear it. I hope that it just continues like that. You really are a fantastic young woman, Ginny, and I am proud to call you my sister._

_I plan to be more communicative this coming year, I really do. I just hope that I will be able to do so. My work, while not as glamorous as some might prefer, is very time-consuming._

_Wishing you a very happy Christmas, and a wonderful new year ahead._

_Love,_

_Your brother,_

_Percy."_

By the time she finished his letter, she was sobbing unrestrainedly and pawing through her bag for the knife.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Crookshanks?"

She looked up sharply, her heart hammering in her chest.

She'd spent the last two days wondering when Hermione would finally notice. She wasn't surprised that it had taken so long, with the excitement of the Yule Ball and Hermione's row with Ron to keep her distracted.

As much as she'd known Hermione would be upset, it still hurt to see the red-rimmed eyes and drawn face.

' _I did that,'_ she thought with a pang,  _'I made her cry.'_

' _So you made a Mudblood cry. Blame Higgs, if anyone must be blamed.'_

Ron didn't look away from the chessboard, but he did pause with his hand on the pawn.

"Maybe you should ask Vicky," he said, "Maybe he-"

"Shut up," Hermione snarled, "I'm not joking. Has anyone seen my cat?"

"When did you last have him?" Someone asked.

"The day before the Ball. I haven't seen him since then."

She stared wildly around the room, as if expecting someone to be hiding her cat under their robes.

"First Neville's toad," Fred said, "now your cat. Is someone stealing people's pets?"

She almost laughed at that.

Fred hadn't mentioned the two school owls that had disappeared, nor the rat she'd found wandering the corridors the previous night.

She'd made the second owl rise as high into the air as it could, before making it just stop flying and fall directly into the forest.

The rat had been forced to walk into the paddock where Hagrid was keeping his monstrous Skrewts. It had taken mere seconds for one of the creatures to stab it with its stinger.

She still had no idea whether it had been someone's pet that had stupidly been allowed out of their room, or whether it had just been a wild rat that had found its way into the castle.

Either way, it was Skrewt food now.

"If I haven't-haven't found him by tomorrow," Hermione said thickly, "I'm going to go to Professor McGonagall. If anyone," she shot a dirty look at Ron, "thinks they're playing a funny joke, they'd better stop it today."

' _Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck!'_

' _Relax. No one at all suspects you. Even if they did, there's no evidence. The cat and toad have probably been eaten by the Giant Squid, the rat was killed by Skrewts, and even if the owls are found, their deaths will be assumed to be natural mistakes. Relax.'_

She breathed out, the chessboard swimming back into clarity before her eyes.

' _You should still be careful. Don't kill any more animals for now. You're almost ready to do the curse on him anyway. Just practice on the Squib's cat until then.'  
_

* * *

One week after Hermione had begun her frantic search for Crookshanks, Ginny sat awake at a quarter to four in the morning, finally feeling ready to end Higgs.

She hadn't dared to steal another animal to practice on. True to her word, Hermione had gone to McGonagall. The professor had made a rare appearance in the Common Room, where she'd gathered the whole house and given a speech about the severity of the punishment awaiting whoever had been stealing people's pets, and had asked for anyone with any information to step forward.

No one had.

After that she'd returned to her practising on Mrs Norris, making the cat bite its squib again and generally controlling it until she felt fully confident in her abilities.

Now she sat, forcing her mind to clear, maintaining her slow, relaxed breathing.

She would only have one chance to do this. If she failed or if he broke free of her control, he'd kill her.

Kill her, or have her expelled and sent to Azkaban.

Still, she felt ready. The book had said that the more of the target's body used for the curse, the harder it would be for them to break free of it.

She'd scratched him, earlier, when he'd been fucking her. There wasn't much under her nails, only a few flecks of skin and dried blood, but she thought it would make the curse stronger.

She'd sprinkled those on top of the clump of his hair, which she'd covered with his spunk before it could dry.

Now, the bundle of hair was stiff, having gained a glue-like consistency from his come.

' _This is as good as I'm getting,'_ she thought,  _'let's go.'_

"Parerium," she whispered, tapping the hair with her wand.

Immediately, the curse began.

Higgs was asleep, lying in his bed, his thoughts muddled and confused.

' _Perfect. Get up. Get parchment and a quill. Now.'_

He began to wake up as she used his hand to write, but he was still far too sleep-addled to muster his will and pose any threat to her control.

When she made him read the note he'd written, she felt the panic taking over his mind, the sudden realization that he was not just having a nightmare, that something was seriously wrong.

He began to fight, making a frantic, stupidly weak attempt to kick out against her control.

She barely even had to interrupt her reading to think about crushing those.

" _I just can't do it anymore. I'm sick of this pointless life. Nothing matters. I'd rather get out now. Terrence Higgs."_

She made him add his signature before nodding, a small giggle escaping her.

' _Conjure a rope. Now.'_

She watched in amazement as, under her control, he did magic that she didn't know how to do herself.

He began to freak out, screaming at her from within his mind.

' _Why are you doing this? Who are you?'_

She made him place a Sticking Charm on the one end of the rope and fasten it to the ceiling.

' _Stop,'_ he sobbed,  _'please, please, stop! Don't do this!'_

A hot flash of pure rage swept through her, and she snarled back into his thoughts.

' _Relax. Merlin, you'd think I was forcing you.'_

As she made him tie the rope into a noose, his mind broke down into a stream of meaningless babble, mingled pleas and denials.

' _No, no, no, please, no, please no!'_

' _They'll find your body,'_ she told him,  _'and they'll believe your note. Everyone will think you were too weak to just go on living. You'll be remembered as a coward.'_

She giggled again, forcing him to climb a chair and stick his head through the noose.

' _Please,'_ he begged, his bladder releasing,  _'just stop! I'll leave you alone, I swear! Don't! Don't do this! No, no, please, no!'_

' _Fuck you. Kick the chair out from under your feet.'_

His struggles against her increased, Ginny ground her teeth together, her nails cutting crescents into her palms as she imposed her will on him.

' _KICK THE CHAIR OUT FROM UNDER YOUR FEET!'_

She felt his leg moving, heard the chair scraping across the floor.

Then she felt him fall, and there was a searing pain in his neck.

And everything went black for a moment.

She came to a few minutes later, a laugh on her lips and tears on her face.

It was over. She'd killed him, and it was all over.

In her dreams that night, Tom kissed her and told her how proud he was.

* * *

After a week had passed with no announcements about Higgs' death, Ginny became half-convinced that she'd hallucinated the whole thing.

She'd thought at length about what the teachers would do when he died, eventually deciding that they'd probably have a school-wide assembly where they'd announce what had happened and talk about what a wonderful boy he'd been. She hadn't really made her mind up about whether she thought they'd tell everyone that he'd apparently killed himself, but she thought it unlikely.

Whatever she'd thought would happen, she hadn't expected there to just be nothing.

Oh, there were rumours going around that something had happened in the Slytherin dorms, although no one seemed quite sure what exactly that something was.

The Slytherins were all walking around in tight groups, whispering intently to one another, and the teachers all looked tired and serious.

But that was it. It was like nothing at all had happened.

As if she wasn't a murderer.

It was actually absurd how easy it had been. As far as she could tell, nobody was paying her any more attention than usual.

She sat at her usual spot for breakfast, eating heartily and eyeing the staff table.

None of them even sent a glance her way.

Dumbledore was deeply involved in a conversation with Snape, with McGonagall listening in and occasionally saying something.

' _They don't know. They'd have done something if they did. They don't even know.'_

She managed to keep her laughter internal as she ran her gaze along the staff table.

Moody's magical eye was staring at her.

She dropped her head hurriedly, returning to her food with a sudden lack of appetite, her body feeling as cold as when she'd drowned Crookshanks in the lake.

' _He knows. Oh Merlin, he knows. He knows.'_

' _How could he even know? Just relax or you'll draw attention to yourself. He doesn't know a thing.'_

She finished her eggs and bacon before rising, unable to keep from looking back at Moody as she did.

He was still staring at her.

She'd only reached the second-floor landing when she heard the clanking of his wooden leg on the stone floor, coming from not too far behind her.

Paralyzed with fright, she stopped her movement, her mind going utterly blank.

' _He doesn't know anything! If you act too frightened you'll give it away! Just keep walking, act natural! Act natural!'_

"Weasley."

Her eyes slowly closed, her heart hammering in her throat.

"Yes, Professor?"

He drew up with her, and she hurriedly opened her eyes again, blinking away a few tears.

"I'd like to have a word with you. Come to my office."

"I-I was just going to-"

"My office. Now."

She followed, a thick feeling of absolute dread settling in on her, that dreamlike state threatening to claim her.

The door closed behind them, and he gestured curtly at the chair before his desk.

"Have a seat."

She did, staring blankly ahead.

' _I'm done. He knows.'_

' _He has no proof. Don't lose your head and you'll be fine. He has no proof.'_

"Do you know a seventh year Slytherin named Terrence Higgs?"

"No," she said immediately.

"Really?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. "There's something odd about you, girl. Something I can't put my finger on."

"I don't-"

He continued as if she hadn't even spoken.

"Your boggart took his form, just for a moment. Of course, it then looked like the Dark Lord, and that's normal enough. But the Dark Lord wasn't hurting you, was he? He was berating you."

She shook her head, mute with terror.

"Higgs though, that's a different story. You were really afraid of him. And then he kills himself, and you're full of life, more so than I've ever seen you. It's enough to make a paranoid man like me think you were involved."

She reacted instinctively, her wand falling into her hand even as her arm rose.

But he was far quicker.

She barely even saw his wand move, and hers was flying across the desk into his waiting hand. He flicked his wand again and her body went stiff, her arms and legs not responding to her orders to move.

His wand was still up, facing her, his eyes boring into her skull.

"We'll see what's what soon enough. Legilimens!"

Memories flooded her mind, overtaking all thought.

Dimly, she realized that he must have been doing it, that he must have somehow been viewing her memories.

But she was powerless to stop it.

She watched along with him as Terrence caught her in the Restricted Section, watched as she met him that first time. And she watched as time after time she snuck up to his secret room to serve his desires.

She saw herself stealing Mrs Norris' hairs, saw herself drowning Crookshanks and crashing the owls into the Whomping Willow and the forest.

And she saw herself making Higgs write his own suicide note before forcing him to end his life.

As suddenly as the show of her memories had started, it was over.

The Body-Bind was still holding in her place, pinning her against the back of the chair.

Moody was smiling, the clock behind his head unbelievably showing that only five minutes had passed.

"Well, he murmured, "That's my curiosity slaked. I must admit, I'm much more interested in why you were more afraid of the Dark Lord's displeasure than of his punishments. Let's find out about that, shall we? Legilimens!"

And again, as if she were watching a Muggle videotape, her memories began to play.

Struggle as she did, she couldn't stop it, couldn't prevent Moody from seeing her talking to Tom, from seeing her trying to die for him.

She felt tears flowing down her face, a thousand miles away. She just watched, helpless, as her memories continued.

She was cutting herself in Myrtle's bathroom, sobbing about how she wished she didn't love him.

She was sparring with Colin, thinking about how she'd one day be able to help Tom. She was crying on her bed, covered in blood and deciding that even if Tom was Voldemort she'd still do anything to help him. She was reading in the Restricted Section, she was casting spells in an empty classroom in the middle of the night, she was strangling Neville's toad with a curse.

She was crying and cutting her thigh, she was dreaming about Tom, she was staring at the glittering skull and snake at the World Cup feeling absolute joy.

The spell ended.

Moody's eyes were wide as saucers, his mouth an almost comical O of shock.

' _He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. It's all over. It's all over.'_

It was oddly relieving, actually.

She'd be locked away somewhere where she couldn't hurt anyone, where she wouldn't have to kill anyone.

She wouldn't have to help Tom. She wouldn't have to become a monster.

It was nearly comforting.

All she hoped for in that crystalline second that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, was that she'd go to St Mungo's instead of Azkaban.

' _Maybe that's what he'll do. Maybe he'll take me somewhere where they can fix me.'_

Moody laughed, as incongruous a sound as any she could have heard.

"Wow. Wow. I was not expecting that. You're more loyal than the majority of Death Eaters out there."

His wand flashed, her body sagging as the Body-Bind vanished.

"Please," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, "please. Please help me. I need help, please help me."

His grin only widened, his tongue flicking out and running over his lips.

"I'll help you." He promised.


	13. Interlude III

Barty kneeled just behind the high-backed chair, waiting for his Lord's fury to pass.

The stone floor was beginning to make his knees ache, but he paid it as little mind as he had the Cruciatus that his Lord had furiously cast.

Wormtail had cowardly fled the basement, transforming into a rat and escaping into the rest of Barty's father's house.

Unlike the rat, Barty had been willing and ready to face the consequences of the information he'd brought.

Most of his Lord's wrath had not even been directed at him. The walls of the basement were all cracked, scorch marks blackening the grey stone.

The fire had returned to its usual height, the sudden fuel that had made it rise from the fireplace and reach the ceiling having vanished.

Patiently, Barty waited, debating offering to bring his father for the Dark Lord to vent his rage.

Nagini's tail, which stretched far beyond the chair's armrests, begin to flick from side to side as the Dark Lord's sibilant hissing filled Barty's ears.

After a moment, the great snake slithered off of the chair and began to slide towards the stairs.

"Rise."

He did so immediately, not even pausing to think.

"Forward, Barty."

He walked around the chair, averting his eyes so as not to gaze upon his master in disgrace.

Soon, he knew, his Lord would be returned to glory and would avenge himself upon Potter. Until then, he would do everything he could to ensure that the plan would proceed smoothly, even if it meant acting nice to the disgusting boy.

"Lucius' punishment will have to wait. His connections in the Ministry are too valuable to abandon now. Only once he has served out his use will he face judgement."

"As you wish, my lord."

"So I do. Bring the girl to me. I wish to examine her mind myself before I decide."

"I will. If I may, what will her purpose be if she does prove trustworthy?"

"She will be a spy, my servant who none would ever suspect."

"My lord, I-"

"You have been my most trustworthy servant," the Dark Lord said, sounding amused, "but next year, you will not be at Hogwarts. She will. And even if you were, one can never have too many spies. You will train her, hone her skills in the art of deception."

"I believe that she could prove a great asset, my lord. She is most driven."

"I have heard your report. I wish to see her for myself. You will bring her to me."

"And if my lord doesn't approve of her?"

"Then we will find a way to dispose of her without raising suspicions."

Perhaps sensing Barty's discomfort, the Dark Lord chuckled.

"Would you not wish to do so?"

"I-if that is your decision, then I will gladly do so."

"Bring her to me, Barty. I will only decide then."

The dismissal in the Dark Lord's voice was clear. Bowing deeply, Barty began to back away.

"Barty. Your father almost escaped Wormtail's Imperius again," the Dark Lord said, "You should check in on them before you leave, perhaps to ensure that he is too pain-addled to even think of fighting."

Barty tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his grin.

"As you wish, my lord."

* * *

Severus paused as he entered the Headmaster's office, the soft music that greeted him stopping his motion.

Fawkes was singing, a hauntingly mournful dirge that seemed to wordlessly describe all of Severus' confused emotions.

For a second, he wavered, debating simply leaving this conversation for later, for once he'd had a chance to think further.

"Severus," Albus said, not turning to face him, "join me, if you will."

He walked forward, taking the seat Albus conjured up beside him and staring, as Albus was doing, out at the setting sun over the Hogwarts grounds.

Albus didn't even look at him, simply continuing to stroke his Phoenix's back and stare.

He felt the acid rising in his stomach again, as he saw the wet eyes hiding behind the half-moon glasses.

"You met with the parents?" He asked, trying and failing to keep his voice in its usual, disaffected tone.

"Yes," Albus said. "They were distraught. They have, however, agreed that keeping it quiet is the best thing to do."

"It doesn't make any sense," he said, unable to hold it in much longer.

"Death never does, not to those of us who have been left behind. It is-"

"Spare me your philosophical drivel," he snapped.

"The last time this school failed a student so badly that they saw no recourse but to end their own life was many years ago. I believe I am owed some philosophical drivel."

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. There were no signs, Albus. Not that were visible to me, any of the other staff, or any of his friends. It doesn't make sense for him to have killed himself. It simply doesn't."

"And yet, the handwriting in the note was his. The last spells his wand cast were to conjure a rope and to fasten it to the ceiling. There is no evidence of any intruder in the dorm."

"He was excited about the future," he snarled, "He was making plans for next year. I met with him three weeks ago, and he was overjoyed to report that he would be staying with his cousins in Spain for the first half of next year."

"Severus-"

"He was raised in a loving home, pampered like a prince. He was one of the most popular students in his year. He had above-average grades. His future was bright. He had never, not once, shown signs of depression or melancholy."

"When last we discussed your students-"

"Yes," Snape said, jumping to his feet and beginning to pace before the window, "I told you that he was egotistical and capable of unthinking, casual cruelty which I found worrying. I also told you that I believed his entrance into the world at large would deflate his enlarged head and now that won't happen because he's dead!"

"You mustn't blame yourself," Albus said urgently, "I know that-"

"This is not my guilt talking," Snape half-shouted, "I'm telling you the boy was murdered!"

Albus shook his head slowly, resuming his stroking of Fawkes.

"And who do you think committed this fell deed? Do you suspect any of your co-workers?"

"Obviously not."

"So you believe a student here was capable of performing the Imperius or one of its variants? Not merely performing it, but managing to keep any of poor Terrence's roommates and friends from realizing anything was amiss?"

"It would have to have been the Imperius," Albus continued, not giving Snape a chance to reply. "There were no signs of a struggle, and as I mentioned, the writing was verified to have been by his hand. None of the other students could recall him acting strangely at all, in the time leading up to his death."

"It could have been one of the variants of the Imperius," Severus said stubbornly. "The Parerum Curse can be cast remotely."

"And just like the Imperius, it cannot be tested for after death. And there still is no motive."

"That we know of. Why are you being so wilfully blind, Albus? There is no motive for him to have done it either."

"What shall I tell you, Severus? I understand the points you have mentioned, and I share your discomfort with the situation. But we have nowhere to start! We have no suspects, no knowledge of anyone bearing even a minor grudge for the boy. Let us assume, for argument's sake, that the Parerum Curse was used. Any student fourth year or above would have been capable of casting it, provided they had the requisite knowledge. I feel certain that any member of the Durmstrang or Beauxbatons' delegations would have been capable as well. Find me a motive, Severus. Find me a reason for someone to have murdered Mr Higgs."

"And if I do?" Severus whispered, his face mere inches from Dumbledore's.

"Then I will take appropriate action."

"Will you? Or-"

"Do not imply that I take the safety of my students any less seriously than you do," Albus said, his voice carrying a note of warning.

Severus smiled coldly, not an ounce of humour reaching his glimmering eyes.

"What if the perpetrator is a werewolf?" he asked softly, "or perhaps a Gryffindor who has so nobly bucked his family tradition? Will you still care for your students' safety then?"

With that, Severus strode out of the office, his robes billowing behind him, the Phoenix song making tears sting at the corners of his eyes for the first time in more than a decade.

* * *

Moody clanked his way up to the desk and sat, sipping from his flask as he did.

Fawkes squawked, rising in a flurry of golden crimson wings and flying back to his perch.

"So," Moody asked, "anything further on the Higgs boy?"

"Very little," Albus said. "His parents took his wand to Ollivander, who confirmed that no one else had gained mastery of it. Nevertheless, like Severus, they do not believe that he took his own life."

"Course they don't," Moody said. "Don't want to admit their perfect little boy was lying to them about his feelings."

Albus shook his head, tapping the rim of the Pensieve with a fingernail.

"I find myself agreeing with them. I've been examining Severus' memories of his interactions with the boy, as well as my own and those of his other professors and his friends. Usually, with hindsight, we can see the signs. But I believe Severus is right. There were no visible signs."

"So you think someone killed him."

"I think someone placed him under the Imperius or one of the spells like it. Severus raised the possibility of the Parerum Curse. I believe that would have been the most likely."

"Probably wasn't particularly careful about his hair or nails," Moody grunted.

"Yes. And there have been other disturbing occurrences. In the weeks leading up to Mr Higgs' death, there has been a spate of animal disappearances or deaths in the castle."

Moody's eyebrows rose. "I know about Longbottom's toad. What else?"

"Miss Granger's cat, Mr Hopkin's rat. Two school owls, one of which had flown into the Whomping Willow."

"Could have been someone practising the spell," Moody said, stroking his scarred chin, "but it doesn't narrow the specific spell down."

"No," Dumbledore said, "luckily, perhaps, we may yet have a clue. I will only have the chance to discuss it with him later today, but Mr Filch spoke to Hagrid last night. Apparently, Mrs Norris, his cat, has been acting very strangely."

"How so?"

"A few weeks ago, she bit him. For the first time ever. He's seen her ramming her head into the wall and doing other odd things like that. I would like you to assist me in testing her for curses."

Moody nodded curtly.

"It may be too much to hope for, but if it is indeed the Parerum Curse, we should be able to track whatever the perpetrator took from her body."

"Should be easy enough. Unless they got rid of it."

"Even so. Mr Filch is currently in Hogsmeade. He should be back within an hour or so. I will discuss Mrs Norris' symptoms with him, and then, with his permission, we will test her."

Moody nodded.

"I did want to ask you, have you had any luck with the students we discussed at the beginning of the year?"

"Spent some time with the Longbottom boy," he said, a chagrined look flickering across his face for an instant. "Told him a bit about his parents. I get the feeling he doesn't hear much about them. As people, I mean."

Albus nodded sadly.

"He's still a wet blanket," Moody said frankly, "and I don't see that changing anytime soon. But we talk. He's warmed up to me a bit, although he still barely says anything that's not about plants."

"It is doing far more good than you realize. Minerva said she believes the boy seems more content than usual. What about Mr Carmichael?"

"Got him to talk a little bit. He said something about having to be very quiet once his dad's had a few drinks."

He grimaced. "He seemed to realize he'd said too much. Been avoiding me since then."

"Still, if he has admitted that much, it gives you something to work with. What about Miss Weasley?"

"I've got a plan for her," he said. "She hasn't much wanted to talk, whenever I've tried. But she came top in her year the last term on the practical side, and her theory put her in the top five. So I've offered her some extra, more advanced lessons next term."

Moody quickly raised his hand as Albus opened his mouth.

"Nothing too intense," he said, "I'll just do what I've been doing with the fourth and fifth years. It'll give me an opening."

"I was going to say that it is a wonderful idea. Did she seem excited about it?"

"Damned if I know," he said gruffly, "she looked interested, but she hasn't given me an answer yet. I was planning on asking her today so I can start making plans if she says yes."

"Good. I don't know how much we have to worry about her; Minerva is pleased with her progress in general. Nevertheless, if you can get her to open up about Voldemort's possession of her, it could only do good. Any luck with Mr Nott?"

"I told you, Albus. I'm not too interested in helping out the spawns of Death Eaters who never even faced justice."

Albus shook his head, looking like he wanted to say something. He seemed to think better of it, but when he next spoke, his voice was lacking its usual warmth.

"Well, three out of four is not bad, Alastor, not bad at all. Have you ever thought about a future in teaching?"

"Once this year's over," Moody said, pushing himself to his feet, "I'm out of here. I'd like to grab Weasley before Filch gets back. This testing, it could take hours."

"Yes. Alastor?"

Moody paused, turning his head and leaning on his staff halfway to the door.

"Do you have any suspects in mind?"

Moody gave a wolfish grin, his magical eye spinning around in its socket.

"Everyone's a suspect, Albus. But I'll be keeping a closer watch on Karkaroff's lot."


	14. Third year, part five

A loud crack split the air, making her drop the book and look around wildly, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Miss, miss, it's just being me."

Her eyes found the speaker after a moment. It was a house-elf, a female one by the looks of it.

"Professor Moody, Miss," it squeaked, "He was asking me to give this to you."

She took the note from the outstretched hand, thanking the elf in a tremulous voice.

It blushed before disappearing with another loud crack.

" _Come to my office as soon as you get this."_

The feeling of unreality smothered her as thickly as ever it had as she rose on trembling legs, wondering what he wanted.

Since Moody has discovered what she'd done, three days ago, she'd been wondering when she would receive a summons.

She still couldn't believe that he'd simply let her go after finding out what she'd done. It didn't make any sense at all, but that's what he'd done, after promising to help her and making her promise to tell nobody that he'd called her in and examined her mind.

As if there was anyone she could tell.

But that was it, as if Moody didn't really care what she'd done.

As if he didn't care that she was planning to help Tom, if she ever could.

The door to his office opened almost the same second she knocked.

"In," he growled, waving his wand at the door as soon as it closed behind her.

"Do you still have the hairs?"

"Wh-"

He scowled, waving an impatient, marred hand. "The hairs! From the squib's cat, from Higgs and the other animals. Do you still have them?"

"I-I have Mrs Norris', but-"

He cursed under his breath, waving his wand again and making hers fly from her sleeve and into his hand.

"And you didn't do anything about your spell record," he snapped, tapping her wand and starting to mutter under his breath.

"What are-"

"They suspect he was cursed," he said, "they're going to test the cat. You need to destroy those hairs."

She froze, even her shaking stopping as she realized what he meant.

They suspected that Higgs had been cursed. They were going to find her out, they'd expel her, she'd be sent to Azkaban, they'd-

His hand shot out, whipping across her face.

The burning pain sliced neatly through her panic, bringing her harshly back to reality.

"Listen to me," he said roughly, "tonight, I'm taking you to someone who might agree to help you. Until then, you need to keep yourself together. Go and burn those hairs, make sure you've got every one of them."

She nodded, fighting the urge to bite her fingernails.

"Burn them, flush the ashes down the toilet. They'll be able to prove the curse was done on the cat, but they won't be able to track you if the hairs are destroyed. They won't know it was you."

She nodded again, turning to go.

His hand shot out again, gripping her tightly around the wrist.

"Be back here at eleven tonight," he hissed, "tell nobody where you're going, make sure you aren't seen. We'll have more of a chance to talk after-after you see the man I'm taking you to."

* * *

The flickering candles cast strange shadows upon her as she walked, keeping as quiet as she could.

She ducked into a small alcove behind a suit of armour, holding her breath as Peeves went past singing a rude song about hedgehogs.

Once he'd passed, she crept out the hiding place, swiftly making her way to Moody's office.

She glanced at her watch. Eleven o'clock.

Gritting her teeth, still unsure why he was helping her, she knocked on the door.

The door opened a second later.

"Get in," He hissed.

He looked as stressed as she'd ever seen him, his magical eye rolling round and round like a top.

"You're going to come with me on a patrol of the grounds," he said. "I know a shortcut out of them, I'll be Side-Along Apparating you from there. You've been Apparated before?"

She nodded.

"Good. Won't have you being sick on me. Put this on."

She fumbled his sudden throw, almost dropping the silvery cloak tossed to her.

She stared at it for a second before she realized.

"An Invisibility Cloak," she whispered reverently, "cool!"

"Put it on! We need to get going!"

Wearing the cloak was almost exactly how Ron had described his experiences with Harry's.

She followed Moody, a few steps behind him at all times, as they walked through the corridors and staircases, all the way out onto the grounds. There was one nerve-wracking moment when Professor McGonagall walked past them, but she just nodded to Moody and let him and his unseen follower continue. The icy January night bit at her face and hands even through the cloak, the trees in the distant Forbidden Forest groaning in the cold wind.

They walked on, past Hagrid's hut, and she suddenly realized where they were headed. The last time she'd been this way, she'd been looking through an owl's eyes.

"The Whomping-"

"Shut up," he hissed, "voices carry."

Blushing furiously, her fingers curling into fists, she carried on walking, stopping when Moody did, just out of reach of the flailing branches.

"Wormtail," he muttered, jerking his wand and levitating a branch, "if you were lying about this…"

He twisted his wrist, sending the hovering branch forward to touch the tree.

Apparently, Wormtail, whoever he was, hadn't been lying.

Her gasp was swallowed up by the great creaking noise the Whomping Willow made as it froze, a large hole opening right at the tree's trunk.

"C'mon."

She stared around wild-eyed as they walked through the tunnel, eventually arriving in a desolate and ruined hut.

"Where-"

"The Shrieking Shack," he said, "put the cloak on the table and take my arm."

"Wh-"

"We'll have time to talk later," he said, a look of annoyance flickering across his face. "Right now, we need to go. Take my arm."

She'd barely done more than wrap her fingers around his meaty forearm before there was a crack and they were gone, spinning through the tight tube of apparition.

She fell to her knees as they arrived, nausea rising in her belly. She recovered after a minute, pushing herself up to her knees to see Moody talking to a strangely familiar-looking man.

She'd never seen him before, she was sure of it. She'd have remembered that scraggly whisker-like moustache, those enormous front teeth, and the long, wrinkled fingers. Still, something about him rang a faint bell in her memory.

He kept glancing at her, his eyes darting to her face before returning to Moody.

"Tell him we've arrived," Moody said.

The man looked for a second like he wanted to protest, but he nodded glumly, leaving the room.

It was only then that she actually looked around the place they'd arrived.

It seemed to be a living room, far more similar to the pictures she'd seen of Muggle homes than to the comfortingly chaotic setup of the Burrow. There were two leather couches in the centre of the room, but they looked like they hadn't been sat on for years.

A small coffee table stood in the centre of the carpet, a fine layer of dust covering it.

It felt more like a museum than a home.

If not for the open book lying on the couch, in fact, she'd have assumed that nobody had been there for years.

The only real sign that it was a wizarding home was the moving photograph atop the large fireplace.

The photograph showed a man and a woman, him wearing a silly grin, her laughing at something.

As she looked closer, she blinked, realizing that she knew who the man was.

"That's my brother's boss," she murmured, "Barty Crouch."

"Yup."

She jumped, not having noticed Moody walking up to her. He too was examining the picture, although his lips were twisted in a sneer.

"This is my father's house," he said.

"Your-"

"He wants her to come."

She spun, turning to face the door where the man Moody had been talking to earlier had just walked through.

"Just her," the man said. "He wants to talk to her alone."

"C'mon," Moody said, grabbing her arm and pulling her.

She let him take her, too busy trying to figure out what was going on to try and fight.

' _Crouch is his father? What? Is that who he's taking me to?'_

Moody led her through the other door the man had used, pulling her into a bare-walled corridor.

At the second door in the corridor he stopped, gesturing to it.

"He's waiting for you. Just go down, into the basement."

"But-who is-"

Moody just opened the door and pushed her toward it.

"We'll talk afterwards. Just go, speak to him."

With a sudden, unexplained fear filling her, she walked.

The door opened into a dimly-lit staircase, the wood groaning under her feet as she descended.

After what felt like hours, she'd reached the bottom. It was a large room, the floor carpeted but otherwise bearing almost no furnishing.

There was another fireplace here, the dancing flames casting illumination on the high-backed chair before it.

An enormous snake lay stretched out in front of the fire, its forked tongue sliding out of its mouth as she watched.

"Come forward."

She started, the terrible voice making her hair stand on end. It was high-pitched and cruel, grinding against her ears like nails on a chalkboard.

For some reason, her nervousness lessened at the sound.

"Come to where I can see you, girl."

Her legs responded automatically, pulling her forward.

She was careful not to tread on the snake as she rounded the chair, but what she saw when she looked at its occupant made her take a step back, her hand flying to her mouth even as horrified nausea filled her.

It was the most terrible thing she'd ever seen, worse than any of the pictures she'd seen in the Restricted Section, worse than her most frightening nightmare.

Her first thought was of a baby, a large, mutilated and malformed infant.

Its limbs were gangly and thin, far longer than the body they were connected to. It was naked but for a tiny strip of cloth around its waist, and its skin was a horrid shade of blackened purplish-red, looking burned and blistered.

A wand was clutched in one claw-like hand that looked too weak to even hold the light length of wood.

The creature was hairless, with no nose or lips, its ears twin mounds on the sides of its misshapen head.

Its eyes were misty, white balls that she somehow knew were seeing her.

It was smiling, revealing uneven rows of brown teeth.

It was the worst thing she'd ever seen, the worst thing she could ever imagine.

And yet, it gave her a sense of something she almost couldn't place, something that made her feel warm and comfortable.

There was no conscious thought, no careful application of facts to draw a conclusion.

She just knew.

She fell to her knees before him, her body seized with a fit of powerful trembling, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You know who I am," he said, cold amusement in his voice.

Her tongue felt like she'd swallowed one of Fred and George's sweets.

It was him, he'd come back to her.

It was Tom.

She nodded, her eyes stuck to that face, wondering how she could have ever thought it was ugly.

"Legilimens!"

Far too shocked by his appearance to do anything, she just watched as he explored her memories.

Dozens of conversations with Tom played in her mind, the scratching of her quill against the diary's pages the only sound in those memories. Then she was going down to the chamber for the last time, crying and wishing that she could have helped him in any other way even as she gladly did his bidding.

Harry rescued her, and she felt the raw and fresh hatred for him.

Then she was flying forward through those first terrible months, trying to adjust to a life without Tom, failing miserably. She was cutting herself in the bathroom, she was weeping and wishing she could kill herself, she was practising more and more violent spells, she was duelling Colin, she was inches away from ending her life and deciding that no matter what she would help Tom.

She was convincing the twins to show her how to sneak into the Restricted Section, she was spending hours at a time there, choosing to take the subjects that would help her in her plans.

She was getting fucked by Higgs, wishing that she could even just pretend it was Tom. She was killing Trevor, killing Crookshanks, killing the owls and the rat.

She was killing Higgs, laughing as she forced him to hang himself.

As roughly as it had begun, Tom left her mind, thrusting her back into the present.

She stared up at his beautiful, horrific face, tears blurring her vision.

He muttered something, his wand twitching in one deformed, perfect hand.

She felt the same sensation Dumbledore had caused, back when he had tested her for lingering enchantments. She just sat there, bathing in his presence, trying to get her breathing under control.

His wand flicked again and the sensation faded, a pleased look flickering across his face.

"Tell me, girl. Does my current form disgust you?"

She shook her head wildly, her hair spraying out and covering her face for an instant.

"It would," she babbled, "it would, but it doesn't, it doesn't, it's you, you can't disgust me, it's you, you've come back to me!"

"So I have," Tom said with a chuckle, "so I have. Do you still wish to help me?"

"Anything! Anything I can do, I've been trying, I've been learning, whatever I can do, please!"

Her voice choked up, tears flooding down her face.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry, I tried, but Potter stopped it, I tried to help you, but Potter ruined it. It's his fault, I tried, I tried, Tom!"

Agony filled her, every inch of her skin feeling like it was being sliced open, her bones seeming to snap.

She fell to the floor with a strangled scream, pain suffusing everything.

It ended as suddenly as it had begun.

She lay on the carpet, twitching and shaking as the torment faded.

"You will never use that name to refer to me again."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm-"

"I have killed for less," he said.

Slowly, she got back to her knees, the pain forgotten in the face of his presence.

"I didn't know," she repeated, "That's-that's how-"

"How I told you to refer to me. But that was then. You will not ever use that name in my presence."

"I won't," she said.

"My Lord."

"I won't, my Lord."

The snake suddenly rose, slithering past her to glide up the chair.

He made a spitting noise, and the snake curled around him, its head sitting just under his left hand.

"So, you wish to serve me. What use could you be to me?"

"What-whatever you want," she said, "please, I'll do anything. Anything. I'll-"

"If I brought your mother here," he said, his eyes filling up her entire field of vision, "and asked you to kill her. Would you do it?"

A lump of ice appeared in her belly, her heart stopping for an instant.

' _Anything. Anything, anything, anything, anything.'_

She nodded, her tears starting again.

"What if I desired your death? You were never meant to receive my diary. You are but a loose end."

"I wanted to die for you," she sobbed, "I tried. I tried, but Potter ruined it, he-"

"Enough."

She fell silent instantly, her voice dying in her throat.

"Could you continue your pretence? Are you capable of fooling even Albus Dumbledore, of leading him to believe you are nothing more than a regular student? Could you be my eyes and ears within Hogwarts?"

She nodded eagerly, hope warming her.

"Then that will be your role."

He made another spluttering noise, and the snake twisted off of him, slithering towards the exit.

She didn't watch its progress, didn't care to see how it would manage the stairs.

She kept her gaze focused on Tom.

"You are mine," he hissed, "You owe me your life. I am choosing to allow you to prove that you can make yourself useful. You will act as nothing more than a student, and you will watch and listen. And you will report back to me, you will keep me informed on everything that occurs within Hogwarts."

"I will," she said, "I will. Anything you want, anything I can do, I-"

"Barty will train you," he interrupted, "You must learn to fight just as you must learn to disarm any suspicions."

"Whatever I can do, however I can-"

"One day," he continued, "you will not have to hide your allegiance. One day, your loyalty will not be secret. I hope that you will stand as an example of what I expect from those close to me."

Those close to him. The words reverberated in her mind, drawing a joyous grin across her face.

She heard the clanking of Moody's approach but did not turn to look.

"I am expecting greatness from you," he said, "the memory of my younger self certainly believed you have potential. I agree. You will prove your worth to me. Once you have done that, you will be admitted into the ranks of my most cherished friends."

"I will, I will, thank you, thank you, my Lord, thank you!"

"Barty. Explain the truth to her. Train her in the art of subterfuge and combat. Keep her safe."

He looked at her again, favouring her with a warm smile that made butterflies flap their wings in her stomach.

"I am sure you will do me proud."

"I will," she swore, "I will, my Lord."


	15. Third Year, Part Six

She shook slightly with nervous energy, listening as her roommates began to wake up, her experiences the previous night echoing through her mind.

For all that she hadn't slept once they got back, she still felt as full of life as ever she'd been.

By the time she'd gotten to bed, the horizon had been slowly brightening up. She'd just lain there, listening to her roommates' snoring and wondering how they slept while the world had so fundamentally changed around them.

Barty had explained everything to her. How his father had kept him imprisoned for over a decade, how he was impersonating Moody, how they were planning on restoring the Dark Lord's body.

She would be meeting him after lunch today to plan her training, to plan how she would become someone who could be useful to the Dark Lord.

She could barely wait.

' _Get help. Go to Dumbledore, tell him-'_

' _No! No, no, no, no! I just got him back, I'm not abandoning him, I can't, I won't! I won't!'_

' _What about his comment about mum? Don't you care about that? Don't you care about anyone except yourself? He'll make you kill! He'll turn you into a monster!'_

Her lips twisted into a soundless snarl, her hand curling around her wand.

She muttered a soft incantation, making the top of her wand glow red-hot.

Without pausing to think, she jabbed it into her thigh, the burning pain silencing all thought.

' _If I went to Dumbledore,'_ she told herself, ' _I'd be expelled and sent to Azkaban. He'd want to know everything, he'd make me tell him everything.'_

' _Don't-'_

' _He'll never force me to hurt mum. He'll never make me hurt anyone I care about! He just wanted to see if I'm loyal!'_

' _He's a monster! A monster! How could you even think about-'_

She jabbed the wand down again, hissing through her gritted teeth.

' _I NEED HIM!'_

' _You don't! You'll end up something like him! How could you even look at that thing and want to help him? How can you even think about it? Stop it! If you don't stop it now, it'll be too late! You can still get out!'_

' _It's been too late since Potter ruined everything. It's far too late.'_

' _And what if he wants you to prove your loyalty? What if next time he's got mum there? What if-'_

She lifted her wand, ramming it into her leg again and again and again, raising angry weals with its touch.

' _He won't!'_

' _He might.'_

A new voice entered her internal debate, the one that had always reminded her of Tom.

' _So what if he does? Will you really be content to live that terrible half-life you have been, always wishing for him and hating yourself for it? Is there anything, anything at all that you wouldn't do to feel complete again like you were when you had the diary?'  
_

' _I don't want to hurt anyone-'_

' _You already have. Where was mum when Lockhart held you down? Where was she when Terrence was fucking you? Where was she?'_

' _That's not fair, she-'_

' _When Lockhart had you, Tom saved you. When you were alone and depressed, Tom saved you. You were willing to die for him. You told him you'd kill for him. What does it matter who?'_

Jasmine said something to Priscilla, the words not even registering in Ginny's mind.

' _Your mother would hate you if she knew the truth. Your father would disown you. Would they treat you any better than Barty's father treated him? They'd gladly send you to Azkaban.'_

' _They wouldn't, they-'_

' _Lies. Nothing is worth more than Tom. Nothing beside him is worth more than your happiness. You'll never feel truly happy unless you're obeying him, you know that.'  
_

' _I-'_

"Ginny? You awake?"

She yawned loudly, making it sound like she'd just woken up.

"Yeah."

We're all going down to breakfast," Evelyn said from just outside her curtains, "if you want to come with us."

"I'll be there in a bit," she answered, "I think I'm going to shower first."

"Ok."

As soon as the door had closed behind them, she grabbed the knife, staring at her reflection in it for a moment.

She looked maddened, her eyes lit up with a fanatic fire, the corners of her mouth twitching restlessly.

' _Whatever he wants,'_ she told herself as she dragged it across her thigh, slicing neatly through the fresh blisters.

' _Whatever he wants. He'll never make me do anything too bad anyway. It was just to test my loyalty. That's all. He'd never ask me to do that.'_

' _And even if he did, you would do it.'_

She nodded with a wide smile, tears streaming down her face and blood running down her thigh.

"Whatever he wants," she muttered, suppressing a sob, "Whatever he wants."

* * *

"They've confirmed that the Parerum Curse was used on the cat," Barty said, "But you managed to destroy the hairs in time. They have no idea who was behind it."

She breathed a sigh of relief, sagging forward against the desk, her sleepless night beginning to catch up with her.

"You've got to be careful," he continued. "They're all on high alert. They haven't even thought of you in connection to it, but you can't give them any reason to do so."

"I won't."

He grinned at her lopsidedly, the magical eye rolling around madly.

"You've got some talent in hiding what's going on," he said, "but it's not enough. That's something we're going to be working on."

"You noticed that-that I was happier," she said, "after I dealt with him. Did-did anyone else see-"

"No. I was paying close attention to you, ever since Dumbledore and your father first asked me to keep an eye on you. And I saw your boggart."

She nodded absently, scratching her hand across her now healed thigh.

"Dumbledore knows we're going to be meeting next term. I've told him that I'll be giving you extra lessons, more advanced Defence stuff. He approves."

He smiled at her laugh, his normal eye brightening up.

"We're going to be meeting twice a week. Once will be to focus on subterfuge, the other on your actual fighting abilities, which are very lacking."

"I practice duelling with Colin," she said defensively, "he hasn't beat me in months."

"You can take down a Mudblood your own age," he sneered, "well done. Pardon me for not breaking into applause. Is that what you think he wants from you?"

She looked at his desk, face burning in shame.

"But you do have what to work with," he said. "We'll make something of you. We'll only be starting that in earnest during the term. I want to start some Occlumency with you."

"Occlumency?"

"The art of fighting off mental attacks. To prevent people from perusing your memories at their leisure."

"Like what you did?"

He nodded, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Exactly like what I did. And what he did. I want you to practice clearing your mind, emptying it of all thoughts, emotions, and memories. We'll take it further once you've mastered that."

He paused, staring off into space.

She blurted out the question that had been on her mind.

"Would really make me kill my mum?"

He looked at her strangely, both his eyes piercing her.

"Would you not want to?"

"Not if-I don't have to."

He sounded honestly puzzled when he asked: "why not?"

"Because-"she waved her hands, feeling flustered and confused, "she's my mum!"

"So? I'm looking forward to when my father won't be of any further use.  _He_ said I can do it."

She just stared at him in befuddled horror.

"Look," He said with a sigh, "I first met the Dark Lord when I was seventeen. My father tossed me in Azkaban when I was just barely nineteen. The Dark Lord showed more care for me over those two years than my father had my entire life.  _He_ was actually interested in me, he actually wanted to help me become great in my own right, not simply use my achievements to further his own agenda. The man who impregnated my mother didn't even notice when I joined the Dark Lord."

His eyes narrowed, seeming to grow more intense.

"The whole caring about your family thing, it's all bullshit. You don't owe anyone anything just because they happen to be related to you. If they want your loyalty, if they want your love and care, they need to earn it!"

"But they-she-she-"

"What," he scowled, "she loves you? So? What's she done to deserve your love?"

"She-"

"Because I've seen your thoughts," he interjected, "I saw how you spent a year drifting further away from them without any of your family even noticing. Who's more important to you, your family, or the Dark Lord?"

"He is," she said without thinking, "he is."

"Of course he is. You just keep that in mind. And if you ever have doubts, I want you to talk to me."

She nodded, ignoring the prickling in her eyes and keeping them focused on the strange bronze wire in the corner of the room.

He watched her for a few minutes in silence, before sighing and speaking again in a softer tone of voice.

"It can be hard for us," he said, "those of us whose families wouldn't support our choices. I kept it hidden until I couldn't anymore. Didn't give a rat's arse for my father's feelings, but I didn't want to hurt my mum. It's hard for us, but if you bear in mind that you're making the right choice, it gets easier. A lot easier."

She shrugged, still not meeting his eyes.

"Believe me. I know what it's like. But you haven't made your mind up yet."

She looked up sharply, her cheeks blooming with colour.

"I have! I said I'd do whatever he wants, and-"

"Not about that," he said, shaking his head, "I mean about your family. You still want to be their perfect little girl. You know you can't, but you still want to. You need to choose. And you've already chosen the Dark Lord. You can't have both. It's him or your family."

"So what," she said thickly, "I should just tell them I'm disowning them? Tell them I'm not interested in them anymore, that I've found something better?"

"Don't be a fool. You'll still act like nothing's changed. But you need to be aware that it's only an act. That's all it is."

"As if it's that easy," she said bitterly, "I-it's not."

"No one said it would be easy. That's not what matters. What matters is what you do, easy or not."

Slowly, she nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"We'll begin our 'lessons' once term starts again. In the meantime, practise emptying your mind of all thought and emotion. Do it as often as you can. Just breathe deeply, hold it, and let your mind empty."

"I will," she promised.

"Good. Because I'll know if you haven't."

* * *

The rest of Christmas Break passed in an uneventful blur. Ginny spent as much time as she dared in the Restricted Section, reading up on concepts and curses that she wanted to ask Barty to teach her.

Most of the remainder of her holiday was spent sitting with her eyes closed on her bed or in one of the empty classrooms she'd found.

Occlumency was far harder than she'd imagined it would be. She could manage to clear her mind easily enough, most of the time, but inevitably it wouldn't last more than a few minutes before some random thought broke her peaceful concentration.

Still, difficult as thinking about nothing was, she was pretty sure that she was improving. It was hard to be certain since she could barely keep track of time while she was keeping her mind clear, but she thought that she was managing to do it for longer and longer.

Practising Occlumency, rudimentary though her skills were, had some unexpected side benefits as well.

A week after she began to practice it, she was playing chess with Ron, marvelling to herself how her brother, like the rest of the Wizarding world, had no idea that Voldemort would soon be back.

She was just considering how Ron would take Harry's disappearance when those terrible thoughts began plaguing her, making her hands curl into fists and bringing up an urgent need to run to her room and grab the knife.

Before Ron could even notice anything though, she'd instinctively taken a deep breath and focused on it with all her mind.

And miraculously, the thoughts had vanished.

After that, of course, she'd started doing it whenever those thoughts occurred. It wasn't exactly a perfect solution, only serving to push the thoughts off for a bit instead of banishing them entirely the way the knife did.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough.

* * *

"How was your holiday?"

She grinned, untangling herself from Luna's embrace.

An image of Voldemort smiling at her flashed before her eyes.

"It was great," she said, "how about yours? How was the trip to Wales?"

"Fantastic."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, taking in Luna's wide smile.

' _No way. No way.'_

"You actually found it?" She asked breathlessly.

"Oh," Luna giggled, "no, we didn't. It seems that Avalon is hidden far better than we thought. But it was a lovely time anyway, and daddy thinks that he's on the right path—ooh!"

Luna exclaimed so suddenly that Ginny jumped back, almost knocking over two tiny first years that were walking through the entrance hall right then.

"Sorry!" Luna called, waving at their retreating backs.

"Maybe we shouldn't just be standing in the middle of everything?"

"I'm sure not," said Luna, "but I just wanted to find you before I go unpack. Anyways, I brought you this."

Her pocket made a tearing sound as Luna withdrew her hand with a large pink crystal clutched tightly in her grip.

It sparkled and shone, casting small rainbows out with its refractions.

"The Tylweth Teg used to make these before they went to Avalon," Luna explained, her voice sounding like it was coming from very far away, "that's how daddy knows we're close to finding it. I don't think it does anything, but it's very pretty."

Ginny just stared at it, realizing with sudden alarm that she was close to tears.

' _She doesn't know. She doesn't know that he'll be back, that I'm going to help him. She deserves to know the truth.'_

' _If you tell her, she'll hate you. She'll turn you in, and you'll ruin everything for him.'_

' _She needs-'_

Closing her eyes for a second, Ginny took a deep breath, focusing on nothing but the air filling her lungs.

When she opened them a moment later, her eyes weren't blurred.

"Thanks," she said, "it's really beautiful."

Luna beamed.

"I'm glad you like it. Do you want to go visit Hagrid later? I can't imagine he's feeling very good after that terrible article."

"Yeah. Let's meet back here in an hour?"

Luna nodded, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"You seem much happier," she said quietly, "did you manage to sort out that thing that was bothering you?"

A cackle bubbled up in Ginny's throat, threatening to tear its way free.

"Yeah. It's all good now."

She couldn't think of a time when she'd seen Luna looking even half as delighted as she was right then.

' _Remember, it's just an act. She can't know the truth. It's just an act.'_

* * *

"A few things before we start," Barty said, punctuating his words with the tap of Moody's wooden leg against the stone floor.

"Firstly, they haven't made any connection between you and Higgs. Snape's snooping around, but even he hasn't thought of you. I've been pushing them to focus on the Durmstrang kids and its working. You're going to get away with it."

She exhaled heavily, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Next time though, you should be more careful."

"There won't be a next time."

He just smirked at that.

"I think you should quit wasting your time with the Mudblood. You say you beat him every time you duel, and that's something. If you carry on with him, you'll just stagnate. And its better that no one knows how much you're training to fight."

"He wants to stop," she said, "he's only carrying on because we're friends."

"Good. He'll be easy to manipulate, if you ever need it. Now…"

He clapped his hands and rubbed them against each other.

"Occlumency. There are three main areas of Occlumency: Recognizing that someone's invading your thoughts, clearing your mind to prevent them from seeing your secrets, and creating false memories."

"How do you do that?"

He held up a hand in an unmistakable gesture for her to wait.

"The first is easy enough. You get a feel for when someone's trying it. Besides, someone's looking into your eyes and certain memories are trying to rise for no apparent reason? It's usually obvious."

"Do they have to be looking into your eyes? They can't do it without that?"

"No, eye contact is necessary. A good Legilemens doesn't really need to even wave their wand, and they'd be doing it non-verbally, but the eye contact is essential."

She nodded, looking for a second at the long golden wire that had just begun gently vibrating.

He followed her gaze and snorted. "It's been doing that on and off since I got here. We only need to worry when it really starts to shake."

"What's it do?"

"Secrecy Sensor. It'll let us know if anyone's sneaking around. Of course, we're in a school, so there's always someone trying to hide what they're doing."

He pointed at the large misty mirror.

"That's a Foe-Glass. See those indistinct shapes? Those are enemies. The clearer and closer they get in the glass, the closer they're getting in real life."

"That's useful."

"I hope it won't be. Back to business, recognizing a mental intrusion, that's the first element to Occlumency. If you don't have that down already, you will soon enough. The second one, clearing your mind. You've been practising it?"

"A lot. It-it helps with…other stuff as well."

"That it does," he said, a look of commiseration twisting Moody's scarred face. "What you want to be able to do, is to clear your mind the very instant you sense someone trying to enter it. You need to be able to do it automatically, to have it as a subconscious reaction. Once someone's already looking at your thoughts, it's much harder to do. You need to empty your head before they've even started."

"What do I do to get to that point?"

"Lots and lots of practice," he said, "it's the only thing for it. Practice on your own, and while I'm trying to access your memories. Eventually, it'll become second nature."

"But I can't do anything else while I'm doing it," she said, wringing her hands, "I can't talk, or pay attention to what someone's saying, or-"

"That's where the third element of Occlumency comes in," He interrupted, "What you do, is you split your mind, so to speak. You've got one part of your mind focused on whatever you're doing, whatever you're thinking, and the other part is blank, or filled with whatever false memories you want."

He grimaced. "I won't lie, it's incredibly difficult. But if you can pull it off, it's amazing. You can mislead anyone trying to get your memories, and it helps with a lot of other things as well. The more you do it, the quicker your mind works. It can help to break the Imperius, and theoretically, you can use it to lie under a Truth Serum."

Her jaw dropped, her eyes widening. If she could do something like that, she'd never have to worry about being found out.

' _Not until To-He decides that I shouldn't be hiding anymore.'_

"Really? It's that useful?"

"It  _can_ be," He said, "but I wasn't joking when I said it's bloody hard. I can barely even pull it off. You need the right type of head to really do it. Some people have it, but most of us don't."

"Oh," she said, crestfallen.

"Everyone can manage it to some degree, if they work hard enough. It's just to do it fully that's really tough. You've got to-to split your mind into two, and then push the one part up to the forefront while doing all your thinking in the other one, and you need to be reacting to whatever's going on around you. To start, I want you to try consciously thinking of two things at once."

He winked at her. "It'll give you a headache, at least in the beginning. Eventually, though, we'll get somewhere. I've got a good feeling about you. I honestly think you've got what it takes to go far."

"Really?"

"Really. You're loyal as anyone, dedicated, and you've got more than a bit of talent. You'll get high in his service. Maybe even as high as me and Bellatrix."

He sipped from his hip-flask, a disgusted expression flickering across his face.

"Absolutely horrific," he remarked, "you'd think I'd get used to the taste, wouldn't you?"

"Is it hard?" She suddenly found herself asking, "Pretending to be him?"

He chuckled darkly, his magical eye rolling around in its socket.

"I've been pretending to be someone else half of my life," he said, "and the other half I was trapped in my own body, hidden under an invisibility cloak in my father's basement."

"That must have been terrible," she whispered.

"Oh, it was. He had me under the Imperius, as well as whatever other spells he could think of. I had no control over myself, most of the time. And even when my mind was my own, I still couldn't so much as twitch a finger."

He sighed heavily, idly rubbing his forehead with one scarred hand.

"But the Dark Lord came for me. Remember that. If you're ever in trouble and he can help you, he will. He returns loyalty in kind."

"I know," she said, thinking of Lockhart.

"Yeah, I think you do. Enough side-tracking, let's get to it."

Raising his wand, he spoke again.

"Try and keep me from accessing any memories. You ready?"

The instant she nodded, he jabbed his wand toward her.

"Legilimens!"

* * *

Her jaw set, she swallowed down the bile trying to rise in her chest.

' _Remember, it's just an act.'_

"Colin?" She said, forcing her voice to stay even and soft, "can I talk to you for a moment?"

He looked up, his expression caught somewhere between a grin and a frown.

"Sure. But you need to give me a few pointers with Moody's essay afterwards."

She nodded, slipping into the chair opposite him.

"I wanted to-to apologize."

"Apologize? For what?"

She forced herself to meet his guileless, naive eyes.

The words she was about to say sat heavy on her lips, her stomach giving a painful lurch as she opened her mouth.

"I've been a bit…nasty toward you lately. I haven't been a good friend."

' _Just an act, it's not real, I don't really care about a stupid Mudblood's feelings.'_

The problem was that she thought she did, if only a little bit.

"Ginny, you haven't-"

"I have. I don't think I even really thanked you for the Hogsmeade trip. I just-I've been struggling a bit, in Runes and Arithmancy. It's got me really stressed out."

"Don't worry about it," he said, "its fine."

"It's not. But it will be. I think we should stop the duelling practice. It's just too much for me to juggle."

' _Especially since I've got a much better partner.'_

"I'm ok with that," he said, looking relieved, "I just-it was fun, but it's too much, you know?"

"Exactly. We should rather just hang out and relax."

"Yeah. Wanna go to Hogsmeade with me again the next weekend?"

She smiled.

"I'd love to."

* * *

"Ginny?"

She shook her head, stifling a yawn and blinking her way out of her reverie.

"Sorry, just a bit tired. What's up?"

Ron sat down next to her, shaking his head at her Numerology chart.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone kinder than she could have imagined he was capable of.

"Fine," she said in a puzzled voice, "why?"

' _He can't know anything, he can't, I've been so careful!'_

"It's just-lately you've been much more quiet than ever. And you always look exhausted. Since term started again."

She swallowed, instinctively banishing the agonizing thoughts that threatened to overtake her mind.

"I've been really busy," she said quickly, "so much homework-"

"More than anyone else in your year," he said, "almost as much as Hermione."

' _He's too suspicious.'_

Darting her gaze around the room, she dropped her voice to just above a whisper.

"Just between me and you, ok?"

He nodded conspiratorially, leaning slightly closer toward her.

"Moody's been giving me extra lessons."

Ron's face looked like a muggle TV, flickering through a variety of expressions until it settled on jealous pride.

"That's very cool," he admitted, "how come?"

"I was asking him questions about some of the stuff we're doing," she invented wildly, "and he said we wouldn't be getting that far in class. Mostly the same sort of thing you guys are doing. But he said that since I'm top of my year, he'd give me a bit of extra time if I wanted. I couldn't turn something like that down."

"No, you couldn't have. Merlin's pants, that's incredible. I'm proud of you."

Her smile froze, her heart skipping a beat and her belly twisting.

He was proud of her. Proud that she was voluntarily spending time with a man that had put his roommate's parents into Saint Mungo's permanently, a man who was teaching her how to hurt and kill and fight and lie.

Ron was proud that she was learning from a man who was planning to help kill his best friend.

' _It's just an act! If he knew the truth it would ruin everything! You'd be in Azkaban or Saint Mungo's, and To-the Dark Lord wouldn't get Potter! It's just an act! You don't really care what he thinks, it's just an act!'_

"Thanks," she said, not allowing her smile to slip, "it's definitely worth the extra work."

"I'm sure," he said, if a little doubtfully.

After a few more minutes of shared exclamations about how cool Moody was, the need to use the knife grew stronger than her ability to clear her mind.

She excused herself, saying that she needed the toilet and instead heading up to her room with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

* * *

Her wand felt slick in her grasp, all her concentration entirely focused on the task at hand.

The spider scuttled around in its jar. She kept her wand trained, thinking with all her might how she deserved to take control of it.

"Imperio!"

It worked.

She felt the spider's awareness blossom in the back of mind, saw what passed for its thoughts as they flashed across its mind.

In a way both reminiscent and far easier than her use of the Parerum Curse, she imposed her will on the now still arachnid.

It danced to her whims, jumping up and down and rubbings its hairy legs together like an excited child.

"Good," Barty said, "you've got it!"

She turned to him, exhilaration thrumming through her.

He looked almost as pleased as she felt, with a lopsided grin and his magical eye whirling around in its socket like a spinning top.

She laughed, forcing the spider to spin a web.

"I told you it would be easy if you learned the theory," he said, "especially after what you did to Higgs."

She lowered her wand, ending the curse and separating herself from the spider.

"It was," she admitted, "you were right."

"I know. So I don't want to hear any more complaints when I give you something to read."

The triumph of her success still filling her, she nodded, her smile not fading an inch.

It seemed that Barty was right to focus as much on theory as he had. For the past month, he'd stubbornly held fast to his decision to spend most of their time on theory, no matter how much she complained.

One of their twice-weekly meetings was always spent practising her Occlumency, which had improved magnificently, while the other was for the Dark Arts and combat magic. Of course, he did show her how to actually do the spells, but he didn't want to waste the small amount of time they had together with watching her fruitlessly attempting curses.

He did give in a little bit, though, agreeing that they would spar at the end of every lesson.

She still hadn't managed to so much as disarm him.

"Is Potter still wasting his time in the library?"

"Yeah. With my brother and Herm-the Mudblood."

He nodded, his lips twitching.

He knew, of course, what Potter had been up to. But she needed to prove that she could notice people's doings. He'd been giving her lots of odd assignments like that, like telling her a student's name and expecting a list of their activities over a full week.

"I don't think there's anything even half as frustrating as that brat in this entire castle! The book he needs is in his room, all he has to do is ask Longbottom."

"What will you do if he doesn't?" She asked eagerly. Any information about their plans was like water to a parched throat for her.

"There's a house-elf who's obsessed with Potter. I'll get him to give the Gillyweed to the boy."

"Why can't you just-just grab him next time he's in Hogsmeade? Just grab him and Apparate away."

He was shaking his head before she'd even finished.

"The Dark Lord's not ready yet. He needs a bit more time before he can use the potion. And this way, I might be able to make the boy's death look like an accident."

"How would you do that?"

"There's going to be a lot of beasties in the maze. When the Dark Lord's finished with Potter, he'll send the corpse and cup back. I'll just have to make sure one of the Acromantula finds him before anyone else. And then have another champion find Potter's half-eaten corpse."

He chuckled darkly, raising his hip-flask to his mouth.

"Of course," he said once he'd finished wiping the Polyjuice away from around his mouth. "Dumbledore probably won't buy it. Could be I'll have to do a runner. But the Dark Lord will be back. It's worth it."

"It's worth anything," she whispered, ignoring the sob that tried to make itself heard.

"Exactly."

He patted her hand, looking at her with a grin.

"You've never had the chance to see him in his glory. You will. And I told you, you've got what it needs to rise high. You'll be one of us, one of his most trusted."

' _I don't want his trust, I don't want him! I can't-this is-'_

She took a deep breath, shaking her head wildly and clenching her hands into fists.

Mercifully, that weak, useless voice vanished after only a minute.

"It's still hard sometimes, isn't it?" He asked gently.

"I just-a part of me-"

"You don't need to explain," he said, "I understand. I really do. You just need to remember that you are doing the right thing."

"I know, it's just, sometimes-it's hard to remember that."

"That's alright. Just keep reminding yourself. It'll get easier."

' _It has to. It has to. If it doesn't, I'm going to lose my mind.'_

* * *

"I know what the Task will be tomorrow," Luna announced.

Ginny somehow managed to bite back her immediate response, which would have been to say that she knew as well. In fact, she also knew what the Third Task would be, and how exactly it would end.

The wind rustled through the tree above them, a few stubborn leaves giving up and dropping onto the ground around them.

"Really?" She asked, hoping that she sounded as excited as she would have if she really didn't know, "how did you find out?"

"Hagrid told me."

After a moment, Ginny realized that further prompting was necessary.

"And? What is it?"

"The Mermen in the lake have been given something belonging to each of the Champions," Luna said, waving her hand toward the lake, "They've got to find the Mermen's village and get whatever it is back, all within an hour."

"I don't like it," Luna continued before Ginny even had a chance to respond, "It just reinforces the divide between us and other magical creatures, making it out as if they're thieves."

' _Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.'_

Sometimes, it was hilarious how naive Luna was, how loving and caring she was.

And sometimes it made Ginny want to weep for the innocence that she should have had.

"I'm sure the Mermen agreed to it," she said, "can't imagine they would be doing it otherwise."

"Who knows?" Luna sighed, "We can't ask them. I want to learn Mermish one day."

"Really?"

"Of course. Think of how many fascinating things they must have to tell us. Wouldn't you want to find out what they have to say?"

' _Maybe once I'd have wanted to. Now, I just can't care that much.'_

A bird dived toward the lake, passing within a foot of them.

Luna's sudden giggle brought tears to Ginny's eyes.

' _I wish I could be that innocent. I wish I could care about something like that. I can't, and it's all Potter's fault.'_

* * *

She clapped and cheered just as loud as everyone else, looking for all the world like the Task had been fun and exciting to watch.

Inside, however, she wanted nothing more than to weep.

Ron has been Potter's hostage. Ron, her brother, was the thing that Potter would miss most.

And it didn't surprise her at all to know that the reverse was probably true.

' _Why are you acting like this is something new? You've known for years that Ron loves Potter more than he does you. Tom even told you so.'_

The voice was not wrong. She'd known it, even accepted it.

It still hurt to be reminded. It still hurt to know that Ron would be all depressed once the Dark Lord killed Potter, even though he'd never know the truth.

Even though it would be something worth celebrating.

"He's really something, isn't he?" Colin said admiringly, pulling her away from her thoughts.

"Yeah."

"He's tying with Cedric now. I think he's going to win it, I really do."

' _He will. He'll win it, and then he'll die. And then I'll have To-The Dark Lord back. He'll be back. Everything will be so much better once he's back.'_

"You know," she said, "I think so too."


	16. Third Year, Part Seven

Her teeth ground together so harshly she was surprised it wasn't audible.

Heedless to the admittedly hidden fury that she was inciting, Jasmine continued her prattle.

"I'm certain he's going to win the Tournament. It just wouldn't be right if he didn't."

"I know," Priscilla fawned, "it's like seeing a fairy-tail come to life!"

"I just hope that French girl doesn't try and stake her claim on him," Jasmine went on, "did you see her, after he rescued her sister?"

"Well," Evelyn said, "he's certainly available, I don't think Parvati had a nice time with him at the ball."

Ginny quickly made sure her face was arranged in a slightly vapid smile when Jasmine turned to her and asked: "He stayed with your family again over the summer, didn't he?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Well? What's he like in person?"

"He's—just a normal boy. He's my brother's best friend, I don't know."

' _He's a selfish, arrogant, lazy, rich bastard.'_

"What does he like?" Jasmine asked, still watching her intently.

' _Playing the hero and ruining things.'_

"Quidditch? And he-I don't know, he just likes doing things. He doesn't read a lot or anything like that."

"Bad luck, Jasmine," Evelyn said, "sounds like you wouldn't be able to even have a conversation with him."

Jasmine blushed, drawing herself up haughtily.

"For your information, I didn't want anything of the sort. I was just curious."

' _Yeah, right. You ignorant bitch. I hope you cry when he dies.'_

* * *

"I'm telling you, it's true!"

Exasperated, she just shook her head, stabbing her bacon as if that would release some of her anger.

"It is!"

"Colin, it's not, ok!"

"But-"

She cleared her mind, forcing the pointless anger to disappear.

"Luna's one of my closest friends," she said, "and I'll never tell her this, but her father's absolutely mad. I don't think his magazine's ever said anything true. Heliopaths don't actually exist!"

"What about all the eyewitness reports?"

She sighed, putting down her fork and looking at him.

He was flushed, wearing a look that suggested that he thought he'd just win the argument.

Introducing Luna to Colin had been perhaps the biggest mistake she'd ever made.

"Come on, Colin. He's got two eyewitness reports, one of who ended up in Saint Mungo's for years after seeing a 'Heliopath', and the other one is also an eyewitness to absolutely everything he talks about. Why would they even hide these things?"

"Because the Ministry uses them!"

She ignored the murmured conversations and giggles around them, instead clearing her mind again and banishing the flash of hot anger that had shot through her.

"Colin, the Ministry uses Dementors, and everyone knows about them."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking for all the world like a fish.

"How come," she continued, "there aren't any references to Heliopaths in any books? No other Magizoologist ever even mentioned them. No history books talk about them. Nothing. They're not real. Ask anyone, they'll all tell you these things aren't real."

"Most people think magic isn't real." He said quietly, "and they're wrong."

' _Stupid Mudblood!'_

"We have proof that they're wrong. We have no proof about these things."

Right then, a loud flurry of wings interrupted their argument as the post owls arrived.

Surprisingly enough, a handsome screech owl landed right in front of her, its beak snatching out and grabbing one of her rashers of her bacon before it held its leg out for her to remove the letter.

"That's not your parents' owl," Colin said interestedly.

' _Thank you, I'd never have figured that out.'_

"I think it's my brother's," she said, "Percy. Haven't heard from him for months, I wonder what's up."

' _Dear Ginny,'_ the letter said.

' _I must apologize again for my frankly embarrassing lack of communication lately. Due to Mr Crouch's illness, much more responsibility has been thrust upon me, and my schedule is as intense as it was even during my O.W.L and N.E.W.T studying. I wish I'd have had the opportunity to stay and chat after the Second Task, but my presence was required back at the office immediately. From the (admittedly fleeting) glimpse I caught of you, you appear well._

_How are you? How have your classes been? Have you found Runes any more exciting than when you first began?_

_How is your social life?_

_It must be a shame, having no Quidditch at Hogwarts. I am sure that the school feels rather different without it. I hope the Triwizard Tournament is exciting enough to make up for it._

_Hopefully, Mr Crouch will recover soon (not just for my sake, it's a wonder that the Ministry functions without him) and I will have a more regular timetable._

_I hope to have less of a break between letters in the future._

_Love,_

_Your brother,_

_Percy Ignatius Weasley.'_

"He's a bit pompous," said Colin, who'd apparently been reading over her shoulder, "isn't he?"

Her left hand tightened into an instinctive fist, a murderous rage burning within her and making her think of some of Barty's stories.

"He's my brother," she said.

' _And I could almost believe that he actually cares about me.'_

* * *

She finished writing her letter to Percy and sighed, putting down her quill and beginning to put the parchment into an envelope.

It was a shame, really, that she couldn't tell Percy the truth.

Out of her whole family, Percy was the one who seemed most genuine when he pretended to care about her. Percy was the one who she thought actually did, if only a little bit.

And out of her whole family, Percy was the one who she could imagine as even theoretically seeing the truth about the Dark Lord. If he wasn't so in love with Mr Crouch and the Ministry, she could see Percy coming to understand that the Dark Lord would make the magical world so much better than it was.

She wished that she could tell him the truth, could warn him about what was coming and beg him to help the Dark Lord.

Unfortunately, she couldn't.

A painful pang shot through her as she finished tying her letter with its comfortable lies to the owl's leg and watched as it spread its wings, leaping out of the Owlery window.

' _He's chosen his side,'_ she told herself,  _'and I've chosen mine. That's all there is to it.'_

She ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind that begged her to reconsider, the little voice that sobbed and said she should tell Percy the truth, that he actually cared and would do anything to help her.

* * *

"Your Occlumency's definitely improved," Barty said, lowering his wand and wiping his forehead, "I don't think anyone's going to be getting in with brute force."

"Thanks," she said, slumping tiredly back in her chair, "I've been practising a lot."

"I know. It's obvious that you've really been putting your all into it."

She let her feelings of contentment fill her, an honest smile for once spreading across her face.

"It's actually pretty damn impressive. To come as far as you have in only four months, it's amazing. But don't rest on your laurels just yet, we still have a lot to do and not much time to do it in."

"Next year…"

"I won't be here. You'll have to sneak away from the school if you want to learn from me. And I don't know what he'll have me doing."

He shook his head.

"No, it's best that we at least get the basics down, enough that you can then continue on your own."

"What else are we going to be doing?"

"Continuing with Occlumency, focusing on more subtle attempts at breaking into your mind. We'll carry on with teaching you how to fight as well, and just a few…useful things that you should know."

She sat up a bit straighter, energy beginning to thrum through her again.

"I want you to read up on Memory Charms," He said, "and Disillusionment Charms."

"Ok."

"I doubt you'll be able to cast either of them anytime soon," he continued, "but they're basic tools of subterfuge. You need to at least get the theory down."

"What about things like-like necromancy, or possession, of-"

"All far too advanced for you," He said with a wave of his hand. "Might make a nice basis for when you do get there, but since we're short on time, best to work with more practical stuff."

"What about that advanced Occlumency thing you were talking about? Splitting the mind and all that?"

"I want you to keep working on it," He said, "Like I said, keep trying to think of two things at the same time. When you can do that for more than a minute or two, we'll move forward with that."

"Can't we do more with the fighting?" She asked.

"Your Occlumency has gotten a lot better," he said, rubbing his chin, "not really much left for us to do there, not till you can split your mind. Fine. We'll spend a bit more time on the fighting."

"I could-I could meet more than twice a week," she said hopefully, "I won't let anyone notice or let it affect my schoolwork or anything."

But he was shaking his head with a rueful grin.

"Dumbledore asked me to look out for a few students. You weren't the only one."

"Who else?"

"Derek Carmichael—He's a Ravenclaw, fifth year. Also the Nott boy. And…"

His smile grew, stretching Moody's mangled face wide.

"The Longbottom boy."

It took her a moment to understand what it was that made Barty so happy about spending time with Neville.

Then she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand when she remembered what Barty had been sentenced to Azkaban for in the first place.

"No…" she whispered.

"Oh yes. He thinks I'm Moody, of course. Most of the time we just talk. But I've told him stories about his parents."

That drew a horrified giggle out of her, the image of Neville sitting and eagerly listening to stories about his parents from the man who'd cursed them insane.

"Ironic, isn't it?" He said with a laugh of his own.

"Very."

"I've been sorely tempted to tell him the truth," he admitted, "would have to Obliviate him after, but Merlin it'd be worth it."

"It-it would be funny."

' _How can you even think that? How-'_

She cleared her mind, forcing that thought to disappear.

"It would be funny," she repeated.

"Yeah. It would. Now, let's carry on a little, shall we? Legilimens!"

* * *

"You sure you don't want anything else?"

She smiled at Colin, curling her fingers around the bottle of butterbeer.

"No, thanks. This is good enough."

"Are you sure?"

She lifted the bottle to her lips in lieu of an answer, avoiding having to speak by taking a sip.

From the table behind them, she could hear Parvati giggling as the boy she was with said something in French.

Before she'd even put the butterbeer down, she could hear them loudly snogging.

She wasn't quite sure whether Colin expected anything like that from her. It was their second date, if a trip to Hogsmeade could be called a date, but he still hadn't done anything to make her think that he wanted her in that way.

To be honest, she was quite glad that he hadn't. She'd wondered, when they had arranged this trip, what it would be like if he'd kiss her.

She hadn't been able to think about it for more than a minute or two before the phantom taste of Higgs' seed had burned at the back of her throat, making her shake and want to throw up.

But she hadn't been able to change her mind and turn him down, not if she wanted to seem normal.

"Wouldn't it be great," Colin said, "if we could arrange to have them deliver Butterbeer to Hogwarts?"

"It'd be fantastic. But you know, Fred and George sneak out of the castle every so often. I'm sure they'd bring you some if you asked."

Colin seemed to take that as a sign that Ginny wanted to discuss the wonders and brilliance of her brothers. After nearly fifteen minutes of Colin's exuberant exclamation of their praises, he seemed to realize that Ginny was not enjoying the conversation.

An awkward silence fell upon them, the hustle and bustle of the Three Broomsticks sounding all around them.

Then, in an obvious attempt to escape the silence, Colin brought up the subject which she'd expected and dreaded.

"You know, I really think Harry's going to win the Tournament."

"I don't know," she said, "the other Champions are all older and more experienced…"

"But he's tying with Cedric for first place already," he exclaimed, "and think of all the other stuff he's done."

"Yeah…I just think…I just don't like how everything's always all about him, you know?"

Judging by Colin's confused expression, he did not know.

"I mean…"

She sighed. What was she even bothering for? Colin was just like everyone else, unable to see past the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Never mind. He probably has as good a chance as Cedric, actually."

Colin looked a bit confused by her sudden change of mind, but he took it in his stride.

"I think he's got a better chance. He did a lot better against the dragon, and he only took so long in the lake because he wanted to save everyone. He'll win, you'll see."

' _He will. But I don't think you're expecting what will happen to him then.'_

She finished her butterbeer and glanced at her watch.

"Mind if we go to Zonko's before heading back to the castle?"

"Sure."

As they left, Ginny noticed Colin shooting at envious look at Parvati and her Beauxbatons boy.

' _That's all he wants.'_

' _I don't care.'_

"It was really nice of you to bring me," she said, putting her arm around his shoulder, "you're a great friend, Colin."

She pretended not to notice his blush, or the fleeting look of disappointment that flashed across his face.

* * *

As always, the busier she was, the quicker time seemed to fly past for Ginny. Between her schoolwork, lessons with Barty and the homework he inevitably gave her and pretending to be a normal, social girl, her days were so full that she barely paid attention to the calendar, and so was quite surprised when the Easter Break began.

It was, she had to admit, not as much of a break as it should have been. As usual, her professors had all assigned homework, but she'd gotten that done quickly enough.

The work Barty had assigned her to do, on the other hand, was much more time-consuming.

He'd given her a book to read that he'd borrowed from the Restricted Section, on the theory behind curses. He'd also told her to continue reading up on Memory Charms, to start looking up the theory of conjurations even though it was sixth-year stuff, and to continue practising Occlumency as much as she could.

In a way, it was harder for her to do all that during break than it would have been during term.

During term, everyone was so busy with all of their own stuff that none of them really noticed what she was doing.

Now, though, it seemed like she could hardly get more than an hour to herself at a time. It seemed like whenever she tried, someone was there to distract her. If it wasn't Colin, it was Ron. If it wasn't Ron, it was Fred and George.

It actually made her feel embarrassingly glad that Luna had gone home for the break. As much as being around Luna made her feel normal, she knew that had Luna been around she'd have gotten even less time to do everything she needed.

By the time the break was over, she was actually happy for normal school to resume.

* * *

She twisted, just managing to get out of the way of a purple spell he'd sent her way. Dimly, she heard it crash against the stone wall, making a terrible discordant sound.

Whatever it had been, it wouldn't have been nice to have been hit with it. Barty did not believe in going easy on her. Of course, he didn't use any spell that he couldn't heal the effects of, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't have hurt like hell.

"Protego!" She cried, just in time.

His Stunner crashed against the translucent edge of her shield, throwing up lines of blueish green light.

"Reducto!"

He flicked his wand, knocking her curse aside like it was nothing.

She jumped out of the way of his next curse, which proved to be a good decision when it smashed right through her shield.

"Bombarda! Bombarda! Stupefy!"

He twirled his wand like a baton, sparks emitting from the tip as a desk and two chairs leapt into the air and caught her spells.

But she was already waving her wand while he defended himself.

"Expelliarmus!"

The red light of the Disarming Charm flew true, going straight under one of the flying chairs and hitting him in the chest.

For the first time since they'd started duelling, she'd managed to land a spell on him.

She caught his wand, still marvelling over the fact that she'd done it, too out of breath for anything but a happy sigh of relief.

His hand whipped into his robes, emerging with another wand that he slashed through the air.

Everything went black.

She woke up what felt like a few minutes later, to find him standing over her.

"That," He said, "was pretty good. You're definitely getting there."

Gripping his outstretched hand, Ginny pulled herself to her feet, falling gratefully into a chair.

"You still had me though."

"Yeah. But most people don't carry two wands. Moody does, and so I do. But if I were pretty much anyone else, you'd have won."

Barty smiled at her. "You should be proud of yourself."

"I am," she said.

"Good. Now, let's see if we can get a repeat of that performance. C'mon, no groaning. One more duel before bed."

Of course, she didn't beat him that time. He'd been expecting her distraction, and when she tried something similar he hit her with a curse that she was pretty sure broke her ribs.

But as he healed her, he told her again that she should be proud of herself, that he was proud of her.

She, a third-year student, had managed to disarm one of the Dark Lord's best. And if she could manage once, she could manage again.

' _And maybe you can become someone who the Dark Lord will be proud of as well.'_

* * *

"Look," Luna said, her hand rising with an outstretched finger, "I think that one looks like a dragon."

Ginny squinted, grass rubbing up against her hair as she turned her head slightly.

Summer had come extremely late that year, the weather only really beginning to improve at the beginning of May, two weeks previously. Like many of the other students, Ginny and Luna were spending their Saturday outdoors, enjoying the pleasant warmth.

"I think it's more like a snake," she said, trailing the cloud's outline with her fingers, "a really big one, coiled in on itself."

"I can see that. The big one next to it though, that looks like a house. A house from a children's book. See, the wispy edges of the cloud is the smoke coming from its chimney."

Ginny smiled, for once not needing Occlumency to keep her thoughts at bay. There was something about Luna, something comforting about being in her presence. It made her feel like she wasn't living a double life, like there was no secret Ginny that only the Dark Lord and Barty knew about.

It made her feel normal, in fact.

"You went to Hogsmeade with Colin again," Luna said, some emotion that Ginny couldn't recognize making her friend's voice sound different.

"Yeah."

"Is he-does he want to be your boyfriend?"

"I don't know. I think he does, but he hasn't said anything about that."

"If he does…would you-would you say yes?"

Ginny looked over at Luna, now curious beyond words. It wasn't like Luna to be so hesitant when asking questions, and it certainly wasn't like Luna to sound as if she wanted to cry during a normal conversation.

Luna was studiously staring up at the sky, not turning to face her.

As she watched, turning her response over in her mind, the sun peeled out from behind one of the clouds, bathing them in its light and making Luna's hair seem to glow.

"I don't know," she finally said. "Colin's sweet, and I like him. And it's…normal, to have a boyfriend."

"But…" Luna said, still not looking at her.

"I just-I don't think I like him like that. I don't look at him and think that I want to hold his hand, or-or kiss him."

' _Or let him touch me like Higgs did. That's all he wants. That's what they all want.'_

Luna turned her head, startling Ginny when she noticed those enormous silver eyes swimming with tears.

"Can I tell you something?" She whispered.

"Of course!"

"You won't stop being friends with me?"

"Luna, I promise, I won't stop being friends with you. No matter what you tell me."

For one moment, a wild thought blazed in her head, a mad idea that maybe Luna was like her, that maybe Luna had somehow found out that the Dark Lord was coming back and had decided to support him.

Then Luna spoke.

"I-I think about you like that."

Ginny opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her mind blanker than she'd ever managed with Occlumency.

"I know you must think I'm a-a freak," Luna said, "But I needed to tell you, I had to-"

"I don't think you're a freak," she said, recovering, "it was just unexpected."

"I'm sorry. I didn't-I only just realized the other day. I've been-been trying to work out how to tell you."

"How long have you known that you liked girls?"

Luna sighed, turning over to lie on her stomach.

"I don't know if I do," she said slowly, "I've never looked at someone else and thought of them like that. But when I look at you, I can't help it."

"What do you feel when you look at me?" Ginny asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. She could remember the embarrassing crush she'd had on Harry Potter, and how she'd looked at Lockhart at first.

But she hadn't actually felt something like that since the first time she'd met Higgs, except when she'd dreamt about Tom.

And when she'd met the Dark Lord.

"My belly feels all twitchy and warm," Luna said, "I feel like I'm saying something stupid whenever I talk. And I-I just look at you and think how special you are, how beautiful and kind and…"

Luna trailed off, her cheeks reddening.

Speechless, she just stared, noticing for the first time how pretty Luna really was. Her lips looked soft, her hair shone in the sunlight, and her eyes were like diamonds. But she could remember how she'd felt when she'd looked at Harry, back before Tom. And she didn't feel that now.

"You don't like girls," Luna said, "do you?"

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it. It doesn't…gross me out or anything. I just-I don't know, Luna."

"That's something," Luna said, sounding more like her usual self. "Have you ever felt like how I said I do?"

"Once or twice."

"No matter what," Luna said, "I wanted you to know. I love you, Ginny. You're my best friend in the whole world."

' _Remember'_ the voice spoke in her mind,  _'it's only an act.'_

Blinking back the sudden tears, Ginny reached out and took Luna's hand.

"I love you too."

' _I just wish that I could tell you the truth.'_

* * *

The knife bit deep into her thigh, slicing through her flesh as if it were made of butter.

Hissing through gritted teeth, she pulled it out, her eyes locking for a moment on the blood streaming down her leg.

Insane as it was, she'd missed this. It had been close to two months since last she'd cut herself. She'd managed without it, somehow relying on her fledgeling Occlumency to keep her sane.

For two months she'd been alright, but one conversation with Luna was enough to tear it all down.

She watched as the blood trailed down her thigh, building up just above her knee before dropping onto the floor.

Aside from the rhythmic dripping of her blood, the bathroom was silent.

Everyone else, all the normal students, was asleep.

Sometimes, she wished that she could just be like them.

"It's just an act," she whispered, moving the knife higher and beginning to apply pressure again. "That's all it is. Just an act. Soon I won't have to keep it up. I just need to hold on until then. Just an act."

She pushed down, feeling the blissful agony of the knife carving through her worries.

"Just an act," she repeated, "just an act."

* * *

"I think I'm improving," she said, "with that splitting the mind thing."

Barty raised an eyebrow, closing his enormous travelling trunk and dropping one of the hairs from his hand into his hip flask.

He still looked like Moody, although his hair was getting lighter by the second. No matter how many times she'd asked, he'd refused to let her see his real face. Not while they were in Hogwarts.

"How so?" He asked before taking a sip from his flask.

"I've been using a timer. Focusing on two separate thoughts at the same time and checking to see how long I managed for once my concentration broke." Smiling triumphantly, she continued, "I got up to five minutes last night."

"Not bad," he said, "now it's time to start making it more complicated. We'll start practising with that from next week. You'll have a very, very long way to go though."

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine I'm Dumbledore," he said with a sigh, "and for whatever reason, I want to know what's going on in your mind. I do some Legilimency, as subtly as I can. I keep on talking to you while I'm doing it. So, you have to pick up on his attempt, figure out what he's looking for and feed him false thoughts and memories, keep one part of your mind safe and observant, all while holding up a conversation and making sure that you don't let anything slip."

She shivered, her victory suddenly seeming hollow and empty.

"Sounds difficult."

"I told you it would be, from the very beginning. Like I said, I can barely do it. But some people can. And if you've got the talent, you need to develop it."

"And if I don't?"

He smiled, a grin that was in no reassuring.

"We'll be sure to find that out. How's the reading on the rest of The Unforgivables coming?"

"Nearly done. It's definitely making a lot more sense now."

"Good. You can do the Imperius alright, but I want you able to complete the set."

"Why?"

She quailed under his disbelieving stare, looking down at her feet.

"I mean, why's it so important? There's plenty of others I can do."

"There's nothing better than the Cruciatus for getting information out of someone," he said slowly, speaking as if to an idiot, "and the Killing Curse can only be blocked with a physical shield. You'd be surprised how many wizards and witches can't manage a conjuration under pressure."

"I meant-"

"And there's the intimidation aspect. The stigma around them is so strong, when people see you using them they lose their cool entirely. A terrified enemy is the next best thing to a dead one."

She nodded, meeting his eyes again.

"I think I could manage," she said.

"Wanna try?"

She thought about it for a few seconds before nodding curtly.

His smile growing, he waved his wand, making a glass jar fly from the cabinet and land on his desk.

A spider scuttled inside, scrabbling up against the glass.

She gripped her wand tightly, her heart hammering against her chest.

"Is that the same one?" She asked, a nervous tremor in her voice.

"Merlin, no," he said, shaking his head. "But I've found they're useful for demonstrations."

He jabbed his wand toward the jar, making the lid fly off of it with a soft pop.

"Whenever you're ready."

She let her mind wander, allowing images of Harry Potter, Lockhart, and Higgs to flash before her eyes.

She thought of how her parents would react when they found out the truth, what Luna would say.

Her innards boiled with furious hate, and she raised her wand.

"Crucio!"

Before the spider even reacted, she felt it. A ticklish, not quite unpleasant sensation, as if something warm were stroking her entire body.

It wasn't particularly amazing, but it was good enough that she could understand how people could use this spell on other humans.

The spider began to curl in on itself, hairy legs thrashing uselessly as it spun around in obvious agony.

"Very good!" Barty said, clapping Moody's gnarled hands together, "You've managed it!"

She lowered her wand, her blood burning with the excitement of her success.

"Ready to try the last one?"

Nodding, she let those thoughts bubble up in her again, feeling the loathing again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The room was momentarily bathed in the emerald light of her curse.

And the spider fell over, clearly dead.

"Excellent! Excellent! And it would work just as well on a human!"

Her smile widened until she thought her face would tear open.

* * *

"What do you think you want to do after school?"

She thought about it for a half-second before giving her head a small shake and bending down to scratch the Niffler behind the ears again.

' _Whatever he wants me to do.'_

"I don't know," she said, "what about you?"

Luna had dragged her out to Hagrid's hut immediately after breakfast, saying how much she would like the Nifflers.

She had to admit, they were pretty cute. Useful too, if what Luna said about their attraction to gold was actually true.

She'd half thought that things would become awkward between her and Luna, ever since the Ravenclaw had told her about her feelings. In the weeks since then, however, Luna hadn't mentioned it again, and things had continued between them like normal.

"I think I'd like to take a year off," answered Luna, "to travel the world. After that, I might become a journalist like Daddy. Or I might write about animals."

Ginny felt a small smile pulling at her lips. There was something just so…perfectly Luna about that idea.

"It'd suit you."

"Wouldn't you want to travel?"

She shrugged, not meeting her friend's wonderful eyes.

"It sounds amazing. But there's no way I could afford it."

"If you were going with a friend," Luna said softly, "they might pay for you."

She took Luna's hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Maybe. But that's years and years away."

They stood like that, holding hands in silence for a few minutes until Luna let go and began to tickle one of the Nifflers.

"Do you think people have different personalities that they show to different people?" Ginny asked suddenly.

Luna looked up at her, staring hard for a few minutes while the Niffler whined and tried to pull her attention back.

"Everyone wears lots of masks."

* * *

"She doesn't want to be friends with us, Evelyn! Just give it up already!"

Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob, ears pricking up.

She didn't need to try and figure out who Priscilla was talking about.

She pressed her ear against the door, listening carefully.

From the sound of it, Evelyn was knitting again. She could hear the rhythmic clicking of the needles against each other, only pausing when she spoke.

"I don't think that's true. She just doesn't share so many interests with us. But I think she's lonely, and we should try-"

Priscilla's high-pitched laugh wafted through the door, grating against Ginny's nerves like usual.

"If she wants anything from us, maybe she should actually say something! She's happy enough with that weird Lovegood girl and Creevey."

"She thinks she's better than us," Jasmine added, her voice cold, "all of us who aren't getting private lessons and who can't answer every question the professors ask. We're too stupid for her to spend time with."

Ginny hissed, hands curling into fists.

She could just picture them, Jasmine and Priscilla sitting on their beds in their nightclothes, Priscilla probably brushing her stupid hair while Evelyn sat and knitted.

All of them having a nice gossip about her.

She imagined bursting in there and slashing her wand through the air, making them scream and twist just as she had done to the spider.

After all, she'd been reading about Memory Charms for almost two months. Surely by now, she knew enough of the theory to actually pull them off.

Her fingers tightened around her wand and she gripped the doorknob.

Then, in a sudden rush, sanity reasserted itself.

She released the doorknob as if it was burning hot, actually jumping back from the door.

Her heart raced, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "I can't. I can't."

Almost instinctively, she cleared her mind, taking a deep breath and focusing on nothing but the air entering her lungs, allowing all thought and feeling to vanish.

When she opened her eyes, the furious, overpowering rage was gone.

' _I'll go wait in the Common Room for a bit,'_ she decided,  _'give them a chance to finish their talk.'_

* * *

Barty looked more excited than she thought she'd ever seen him.

Before she'd even had the chance to ask about the truth of what happened, he smiled widely and said: "I finally did it. I killed him."

"Your father? It's true, he snuck in?"

He clapped his hands together, dancing a little jig from foot to foot.

"Yeah. He broke through Wormtail's Imperius and came here to warn Dumbledore. But the Dark Lord let me know, and I found him on Potter's map."

"How did you do it?"

His smile faded, just slightly.

"Didn't have time for anything too exciting. The Killing Curse, that's all. But I transfigured his body afterwards, turned him into a bone and buried him in front of Hagrid's hut."

"Wow," she whispered, eyes wide, "Wow."

"Finally. After all the years, I finally got to do it. And right under Dumbledore's nose."

He winced for a second, rubbing his arm.

"I'd hate to be Wormtail right now," he muttered.

After a moment, she realized what he meant. The Dark Lord must have been punishing him for his stupidity in letting Crouch escape.

Exactly as he deserved.

"Who is that Wormtail guy anyway?"

Barty goggled at her, his face a perfect expression of surprise.

"You…don't know?" He said, recovering, "he lived in your house for years! I never told you?"

"Never! What do you mean, he lived in my house?"

Her jaw dropped as Barty began to explain, her eyes steadily widening.

She listened with complete surprise as he told her everything, about Peter Pettigrew's framing of Sirius Black, how Peter was an unregistered Animagus with the ability to turn into a rat, hence the nickname Wormtail.

And most importantly, she listened to the tale of how Wormtail had almost been caught by Harry, Hermione, and her own brother the previous year.

And how Ron hadn't told her.

' _It's not like I've told him the truth about me.'_

Even so, it still hurt, that Ron didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth about something so important.

' _What a hypocrite. When's the last time you told him the truth?'_

She walked back to her room that night with her mind swirling, anger and guilt mixing to make a furious concoction in her belly.

* * *

"Oh!" She cried, taking a step back, "sorry!"

Ron, Hermione, and Harry all turned to look at her, Harry with his wand raised, Ron standing in front of a pile of cushions, Hermione with a book open on the dusty table in front of her.

That was a sight she certainly had not expected to see when she'd gone to one of the unused classrooms that she usually practised spells in.

"What're you doing here?" Asked Ron.

"I was just walking past," she said, thinking quickly, "and I heard noises. What are you guys doing?"

"Preparing for the Third Task," Harry said. "They've turned the Quidditch pitch into a maze, I've got to get to the centre and find the Triwizard Cup before anyone else. And there's gonna be all sorts of obstacles to get through."

' _I've known that for months, idiot. But I bet you don't know what's waiting for you at the end.'_

"I know," she said, "Hagrid told Luna and me yesterday."

She hesitated for a second, thinking hard.

' _The whole point is for him to win it. He needs to win. Barty will be helping him, but the more he knows the better it'll go.'_

"He also told us that he's giving some of his Skrewts and Acromantulas," she continued, "and that they've brought in a Sphinx."

Harry's brow shot up, his face paling slightly.

"A Sphinx?" Hermione called excitedly, "Wow-Harry, we need to work on riddles. There's a trick to them-"

"I'd be more worried about the Acromantulas," Ron said shakily, "remember what they were like?"

"And the Skrewts must be huge," Harry said. "Thanks, Ginny."

She smiled sweetly, looking him dead in the eye.

"It's a pleasure."

* * *

"This will probably be our last meeting," Barty said, glancing at the Foe-Glass for a second, "after tomorrow night, Dumbledore's sure to keep me busy."

"You said that-that you might have to run."

He nodded solemnly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

"If Dumbledore even suspects me slightly, I'm running. I've got Floo Powder on me at all times, got an emergency Portkey all ready. I couldn't take him in a fight, running would be the only option."

"If you had to go," she said, "what-what would happen to me? Surely they'd think-"

"No," he interrupted, "you're forgetting, I've been meeting with other students. If I have to run, they'll question all three if you. There's nothing suspicious to be found with the other two, and you're a good enough liar to pull it off."

"If he tries Legilimency-"

"He won't. Dumbledore's noble," he spat, "wouldn't do something like that, not without asking you first."

"And if-if he does?"

"Then you say yes, and you hope that you've practised enough."

His face softened and he reached out, taking hold of her hand where it lay on the desk.

"You'll be fine," he promised, "I doubt I'll have to run, and even if I do, I still believe you'll be able to pull it off. You just need to believe it too."

"I do. You've taught me so much, I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"It's worth it for me. I'm getting in at the beginning of something huge. I'm telling you, girl, you're going to rise high."

"Could you tell me again," She asked hesitantly, "what is what like when he had a body before?"

His non-magical eye misted over with remembrance, a wistful smile curling the corners of his lips.

"It was amazing," he said, "every day we had another triumph. One by one, our enemies were falling, we were taking them down. He would fight by our side, and it was like being in the presence of a God. He would do magic that no one else had even imagined. Every day moved closer to that glorious moment when Britain would fall into our hands."

He shook his head, his eyes locked onto the past.

"You can't understand what it was like. We were going to win. We wouldn't have to hide from the muggles anymore, we wouldn't have to pretend that Mudbloods and Squibs and  _vermin_  were our equals. No more stupid laws restricting what magic you can and can't do, no more regulations about what you can study. Magic itself would be free again, and those of us who freed it would be kings and queens."

He took a deep breath, expelling it in a great sigh with his face twisting in a grimace.

"And then Potter ruined everything. Well, tomorrow night, he'll get his just reward. As will all of the scum who weren't even loyal enough to search for him."

"He'll be back," she whispered.

"Tomorrow night, the world will change. And you're gonna be on the right side of it."

* * *

She sat in the stands, staring at the commotion ahead with her mind ablaze with panic.

People were screaming and shouting, the teachers all running to the figure that had appeared next to the maze clutching the Triwizard Cup in one hand and what was unmistakably a dead body in the other.

"Cedric," someone shouted, "he's dead!"

Somehow, she knew, it had all gone wrong.

' _It doesn't matter as long as it worked. As long as he came back, it doesn't matter what happened.'_

She realized that she was crying, silent tears streaming down her face as her insides knitted around themselves.

' _Please, let it have worked! Please, please, please, let him be back!'_

From her vantage point in the stands, she could dimly make out the limping figure that had picked Harry up and had begun to walk to the castle.

' _At least he won't survive. Whatever else happened, he'll finally pay.'_

* * *

She sat with Ron and Hermione around Harry's bed, not even trying to get the shock off of her face or to staunch the flow of tears.

Harry was sleeping again, now that Fudge had left.

Ron's arm felt heavy and hot around her shoulders. In an impressive display of compassion, he'd come over to her and hugged her after the revelation that Barty had been impersonating Moody.

Her brother had obviously assumed that her tears were because she'd been learning from a Death Eater, and not as they actually were because he'd been given the Dementor's Kiss.

She could think of few things worse than that. Death itself would be better. And Barty, Barty who'd been so full of life, who'd been so excited for the future, to see the Dark Lord's rise again, Barty who was sure that she would make him proud one day—Barty was gone, his soul in the belly of a Dementor.

Just the thought of that was enough to make her want to vomit.

Ron snored softly, his weight pushing up against her side.

Hermione had left the hospital wing for a half-hour a little bit earlier. When she'd come back, she'd assumed the position that she was currently in, sitting on one of the chairs with unfocused eyes staring at the wall.

Ginny wasn't sure whether she was awake or not, but was more than happy not to start a conversation.

It had certainly been a busy night. Shortly after Fudge's departure, Sirius Black had revealed himself to be the large black dog that had been in the room.

Ron had told the whole story after that, explaining about Wormtail and who Scabbers really had been.

She shivered, thinking about what had happened after that.

It seemed, based on what she'd heard, that Dumbledore was putting together a group to fight against the Dark Lord.

And her mother had agreed to be a part of it.

The sun had just risen, bathing the world in its golden light, when someone called her name.

"Miss Weasley?"

She turned her head, clearing her mind automatically.

McGonagall stood a few feet away, looking at her with a strange expression.

"Yes, Professor?" She said softly, trying not to wake Ron up.

"The Headmaster would like to talk with you," McGonagall said, "Please, come with me."

Ron gave a small grunt as she heaved his arm off of her and stood, feeling a momentary dizziness. She followed McGonagall out of the Hospital Wing, mentally going through her story over and over again.

If he used Legilimency on her, she was done, as simple as that. Her ability with the split mind technique had improved, but not enough that Barty hadn't been able to break through it.

A pang went through her at the thought of him.

She would be able to keep her mind blank, of that she was certain. But finding an empty mind would be sure to let Dumbledore know that something suspicious was going on.

A few times during the walk to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall seemed like she would say something. Ginny was very glad that she didn't.

As they arrived at the gargoyle guarding the staircase to Dumbledore's office, the door opened and Neville walked out.

He was ashen, his eyes wide and wet and his hands were shaking.

When he saw them, he turned and ran off.

"The Headmaster's expecting you," McGonagall said, looking at the fleeing boy with a frown, "Do you mind if I leave you here?"

"It's fine, Professor."

McGonagall squeezed her shoulder for a second before hurrying off in Neville's direction.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny moved feet that felt like lead and walked up into Dumbledore's lair.

She knocked on his door, hands trembling.

"Enter."

Feeling almost as scared as she had when she'd gone to meet Higgs, she did.

Even through her fear, Ginny was amazed at Dumbledore's office.

The entire wall behind Dumbledore's seat was covered in portraits of what she assumed to be former Headmasters and Headmistresses. They fell silent as she entered, gazing at her with unabashed curiosity.

A large cabinet stood against one of the other walls, and like Dumbledore's desk, it was full of strange-looking silver instruments. Next to the other wall stood a bird perch, upon which what was unmistakably a Phoenix sat preening itself.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Please, sit."

She did so, her terror returning in a torrent as she pulled a chair out and sat.

Dumbledore looked older than ever before, his face seeming more lined that even it had yesterday.

"You have heard about Professor Moody?" Dumbledore asked with a sigh.

She nodded, trying to ignore the feeling like her chest was about to burst.

"They said that-that he was really a Death Eater impersonating Moody."

"Precisely. Miss Weasley, once again I owe you a tremendous apology. You should never have been exposed to such a man, not at Hogwarts. The burden of our students' security falls upon my shoulders, and twice now I have let you down. I am deeply, deeply sorry."

"Thank you," she said softly, her eyes focused on the strange silver tripod on his desk.

"There are a few questions I need to ask you, pertaining to the private lessons the imposter was giving you."

She nodded again, focusing her thoughts.

She'd prepared for this, ever since Barty said he might have to run. Prepared for the questions that would inevitably come in such a situation.

She just hoped that she'd prepared enough.

"What was he teaching you, during your lessons?"

"Mostly-mostly stuff that we'd be doing next year. Or theory. He spoke a lot about counter curses, and-and self-defence manoeuvres. And he-he was showing me how to-to recognize dark magic, and how to fight it."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, fixing his piercing blue eyes on her.

"That is precisely what he said he would do," he murmured. "Was there anything that you can think of that seemed out of place? Any spells that made you wonder why he was teaching them to you?"

She furrowed her brow for a moment before shaking her head.

"It was all-most of the time it was based on questions I asked, or things I wanted to learn."

Those eyes did not move from her, but Dumbledore seemed slightly calmer.

She stifled the relief that tried to raise itself, forcing herself to remain on guard, to keep her mind watching for any attempted Legilimency.

"Did he talk to you? Or was your time entirely consumed by learning?"

She looked down, her hands twiddling mindlessly in her lap.

"We-we spoke a lot. About what-what happened in my first year. With the diary."

It suddenly hit her then, that she would never speak to Barty again, that she would never hear a compliment from him again. She'd never get to show him when the Dark Lord one day Marked her. She'd never get to see his real face.

He'd understood her like no one else, and he was gone.

She barely even realized that she was crying.

"He-he said he would teach me about possession, about how you can figure out if it's happening and how to-to stop it. And he seemed like-like he cared."

"He played his act to the fullest," Dumbledore said kindly, "but you did nothing wrong. The ability to place trust in another is a strength. I am sorry for pressing, but I must ask: did he say anything about muggles? Or muggleborns, perhaps?"

"Only that-that most wizards forget that muggles can also be dangerous. But he-he never really spoke about them. It was about what we were learning, or about-about me."

"Did he say anything about Voldemort or the other Death Eaters?"

"Only how much he hated them," she said, shaking her head.

"Have you experienced any memory loss this year?"

"No."

"I would like you to visit Madam Pomphrey. She will check you for any signs of Memory Charms."

She nodded, fighting the urge to just run.

"Try not to regret trusting him. You had no reason not to. Please, Miss Weasley, talk to your friends and family about this. Do not allow the emotions his deception has caused to fester within you."

"You did nothing wrong," Dumbledore continued, "It appears that Barty Jr was a most talented actor. I have known Alastor Moody for decades, and I was fooled by him. You must not feel like you were at fault. Every other student and teacher was taken in by his act, as were the others to whom he was giving private lessons. You did nothing wrong, Miss Weasley. Do not allow this to spoil your ability to trust."

"I'll try, Headmaster."

"Please do. Your friends and family will surely be a solace in this troubling time."

She kept the relief hidden, not allowing it to rise and possibly show on her face.

But she knew that she was getting away with it.

"Please see Madam Pomphrey as soon as possible. Have a good day, Miss Weasley. Any questions or worries that you have, please, do not hesitate to raise them with Professor McGonagall or me."

"I will," she said, finally standing up, "Thank you, Headmaster."

He shook his head sadly, sighing again.

"Not at all, my dear girl."

* * *

A few hours after Dumbledore had spoken to her, Ginny was sitting next to the lake with her hands around her knees when someone joined her.

She didn't have to turn around to look and see who it was. The strange, somehow appealing scent of Luna's perfume had announced her presence as strongly as a greeting would have.

Luna didn't say a word, instead simply sitting down next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Like far too many other people, Luna knew about her extra lessons with Barty.

They sat in silence for what felt like over an hour, watching as the occasional tentacle rippled through the surface of the lake.

"You're invited to us again this summer," Luna said, "if you want to come."

Ginny nodded, turning to face her friend.

Luna was wearing a small, kind smile, her eyes soft and warm.

The sun had turned her hair into white flames again.

She didn't stop to think, didn't wonder about the sudden burning urge.

She leaned forward, her hand releasing Luna's and thrusting itself into that beautiful hair, pulling Luna's lips to meet hers.

It was nothing like kissing Higgs had been. Luna's lips were gentle and inviting against hers, her tongue hesitant as it moved forward.

Ginny's chest seemed to catch fire, a brilliant, pleasant energy flooding through her, making her pull Luna even closer and feel her breasts against her.

' _Remember, it's just an act.'_

She pulled away suddenly, her heart pounding away and her fingers shaking.

Luna looked blown away.

"I'd love to come," she said, forcing a smile even though she felt like weeping.

* * *

In the middle of the day of the end of year feast, Ginny was alone in her room when an owl arrived at the window.

It tapped its beak against the glass impatiently until she opened it when it then hopped onto her bedside table and stuck out its leg imperiously.

There was a single piece of parchment attached.

She knew before she even untied it who it was from.

Her hand was trembling so badly that the owl seemed to be having a fit, but she eventually managed to untie the note. When she did, the owl clipped her ear and launched itself from the window.

The parchment was blank.

She barely had time to wonder about that when writing appeared on it.

Handwriting that she recognized.

' _This parchment is bespelled to your eyes only, nevertheless, you will not allow anyone else to see it._

_I will see whatever you write on it, just as you will see what I write._

_I understand that your family has joined Dumbledore's Order. You will be my deepest spy, giving no one any reason to suspect you. You will report all information that you hear, and will tell me everything you discover._

_When the time is right, you will act according to my orders._

_You will be my hidden hand. There are few I could trust with a mission such as this._

_Barty will be avenged.'_

It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. Even as she watched the writing slowly vanished from it.

She clutched the parchment close to her, mingled tears of joy and sorrow pouring down her face.

At least this summer she wouldn't be alone again.

She'd be able to write to him, just like when she'd first met him.

And she'd be useful, doing stuff that no one else could.

For the first time since Potter had ruined everything, she found herself looking forward to a holiday at home.


	17. Interlude IV

Interlude IV

Dumbledore paced wearily before his desk, his eyes on his feet.

The portraits spoke quietly amongst themselves, their muted conversation mingling with Fawkes' snoring and the occasional whirring of Dumbledore's instruments to create a calming susurrus.

Severus drained the gin in the glass, holding it in his mouth for a minute before swallowing.

Severus Snape was not a man to drink often. But if there was any time when he was owed the burning clarity that alcohol brought, it was now.

Slowly, the colour returned to his cheeks, the racing of his heart beginning to calm.

Severus shook his head slightly, his mop of hair flying around.

"Barty was not involved in Terrence's death," Dumbledore said finally, ceasing his restless movement and sitting down to face Severus.

"The Dark Lord did not say that he wasn't, he simply didn't mention it."

"No. If, as you wish to believe, Terrence had discovered Barty's secret, he would have used a Memory Charm."

"Memory Charms have been known to fail."

Dumbledore shook his head, stroking his beard.

"Even if he felt that there was no option but to kill him," he said, "there are many better methods than the Parerum Curse. And you are forgetting, I think, Mrs Norris and the other pets. Whoever it was, they needed to learn how to perform the curse. Barty would not have."

Not for the first time, Severus cursed Fudge for effectively executing Crouch before they had the chance to question him more thoroughly. Even if the Death Eater had not been personally involved, Severus was quite certain that the man had known the truth behind his student's death.

It was, of course, possible that Crouch had known, and had passed the information onto the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord was still hesitant to trust Severus completely, and Severus would not be improving that fledgeling trust if he were to constantly be asking questions.

Painful as it was, he needed to put helping the living before seeking justice for the dead.

"There is the chance that Crouch knew who it was…"

"Of course. And if so, the balance of probability is that the culprit was not one of the Durmstrang contingent. It is very likely that whoever it was, they are a student here."

"And we're no closer to finding out who it was."

"Unfortunately not. We will have to keep a careful watch."

Dumbledore sighed, reaching a hand out and running it along his sleeping Phoenix's back.

"I fear this coming year will be one full of distractions. It will be very difficult to pay attention to individual students. But it is something that must be done."

"Many of my upcoming seventh years are in danger of recruitment," Severus grudgingly admitted, "I will have an exceptionally fine line to walk."

"You cannot drop your cover," Dumbledore warned, "Even to save one of them."

"I know."

"You care for them," Dumbledore asked lightly, "do you not?"

"Slytherin has become the house of the blood purists and violent bigots," Severus said, "You know the types of families who fall into those categories. For too many of them, I am the only one who may care, even slightly. Some of them even look up to me. When they hear that I serve him, it will push them closer to that decision."

"It needs to be done. We cannot proceed without inside information of Voldemort's plans."

"I know."

Dumbledore sighed again, fixing his gaze upon Severus.

"Do what you can for them, without risking revealing yourself."

Severus nodded curtly, beginning to stand.

"And please, look out for Miss Weasley."

"McGonagall can worry about her," he said flippantly, waving a hand.

"She will. As I said, I believe we are all going to be very distracted this year. There cannot be too many people watching out for her."

"Albus-"

"The same way that your 'allegiance' to Voldemort may cause the students you care for to follow in your apparent footsteps, Crouch's care for her may push her down a terrible path. Not to mention the effects that the diary had on her."

Severus recovered from his instinctive flinch at his supposed master's name and nodded again.

"My students come before her. But I will keep an eye open."

"I cannot ask you to do any more than that."

* * *

"Thank you for coming, Miss Lovegood. Please, take a seat."

Luna pulled the chair out, making no attempt to hide her curiosity as she sat. She hadn't been called in for a private meeting with Professor Flitwick ever before, and frankly had no idea why she was being summoned for one now.

All she knew was that Professor Flitwick had asked to see her before she would take the carriages down to the Hogwarts Express, and so she was there.

Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick's office was not a particularly exciting place. The bare walls were painted a rather drab burgundy, and the Professor's desk was almost empty. She itched to walk over to his bookshelves but managed to contain that urge.

He sat on a special chair, one that was far taller than the usual ones.

Perhaps it was good that his office was not such an exciting place. Somewhere like this would be far less attractive to Phrelaxes than if there had been distractions filling the room.

And it made it easier to focus her attention on him.

"Miss Lovegood. Luna. I'm sure you have heard that your Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor this year was not actually Alastor Moody, but was a Death Eater imposter?"

"Yes, Professor. And I heard Professor Dumbledore's speech last night."

"Did you know that Miss Weasley was having extra lessons with the imposter over the course of this year?"

Luna blinked, suddenly realizing what this was all about. They were worried about Ginny, worried that perhaps the imposter had affected her, had tried to radicalize her or something like that.

She almost laughed, but remembered the lecture she'd once received from Professor McGonagall about propriety.

"Yes, Professor. Ginny was very proud of it. I didn't see the appeal at first, because Defence isn't my favourite subject, but then I thought about how I would feel if Hagrid would give me extra lessons and I have to say it sounds marvellous. I think I would be at least as happy as she was."

"Miss Lovegood-"Professor Flitwick began, and she realized that she'd started rambling again.

"Sorry, Professor."

"Did Miss Weasley tell you what they were studying in these lessons?"

She shrugged, her attention wavering for a moment at the sight of a parchment on Professor Flitwick's desk that appeared to be written in Gobbledegook.

Maybe Professor Flitwick would be willing to teach her Gobbledegook. The real one, not the sham that Goblins taught outsiders.

He repeated his question, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Sorry, Professor. Yes, she mentioned that they were going through the fourth year syllabus and even studying some of the theory from the fifth year one."

"I see. Can you think of any times during this year when Miss Weasley seemed…odd? Upset or troubled, perhaps? Did you ever receive the sense that something was different about her, or that she was worried about something? More than could be blamed on the hurly-burly of normal life, I mean."

She was just about to open her mouth and respond with a resounding no when she paused, cocking her head and considering it.

There had been times when Ginny had seemed troubled. Many of them.

There'd been all that time around the winter holidays when Ginny had barely spoken, when she'd said that there was something going on that she didn't want to talk about.

An icy snake of fear wiggled through her chest, coiling itself around her heart.

There'd been all those times when she thought Ginny looked like she was about to cry for no reason. There'd been the times when Ginny had looked sad and disconsolate, had seemed to lose all interest in whatever they were talking about.

There'd been all of those strange conversations, questions about hearts and minds and masks and secrets.

Could it be? Could Ginny really have been brainwashed by a Death Eater?

' _No,'_ she decided, shaking her head. There must be some other explanation. It couldn't be that her best friend; the girl who had never mocked or insulted her, the girl who had kissed her and didn't call her a freak, the girl who had listened to her with interest even when she didn't believe what she was hearing.

It couldn't be that her best and only real friend had been brainwashed by a Death Eater. It simply couldn't be.

There was another explanation. There had to be.

The relief that filled her was not enough to entirely blot out that freezing bit of doubt.

But it was enough to dim it, to dull its edge.

"No, Professor. Not that was out of the ordinary"

"Miss Lovegood, please, think about it. This is not to get Miss Weasley into trouble. I promise you, we want nothing but to help her."

For a moment, she debated telling him. Telling him how she had been so concerned about Ginny, how even though Ginny had come back to herself she still seemed a bit different.

' _What if he's right? What if-'_

' _He isn't. He can't be. And if you tell him, she won't want to be your friend anymore.'_

"I will, Professor."

Professor Flitwick sighed, shaking his tiny head and staring at his desk.

"Please do. Anything you think of, anything at all, please tell me."

She nodded, standing up.

"Have a good holiday, Professor."

"You as well. And if anything comes to mind, don't hesitate to write to me."

* * *

Molly wiped her eyes, her lower lip trembling, her fingers trailing over one of their old family pictures.

She and Arthur waved out of the centre of the picture, surrounded by their children. Bill was proudly gesturing to the Head Boy badge on his chest, and beside him, Charlie was pointing his thumbs at his Prefect's badge. Percy stood next to his father, looking solemn in his Hogwarts robes, all ready to face his first year. The twins were flanking the rest of the family, their faces contorted in identical ridiculous poses. Ron stood in the middle of the picture, his arm around the girl next to him, the picture having been taken while he was laughing.

Ginny stood next to him, wearing a sunny grin that showed the fresh gaps in her smile.

The happy family in the photo suddenly jumped, scattering out of the frame as Molly's torrent of tears fell.

"Molly? Molly, dear, are you in here?"

She gave a coughing sob, her attempt at answering Arthur failing miserably.

A moment later, she felt his arm snaking its way around her side as he sat next to her and pulled her close to him.

"Molly, it's alright. It's alright."

"It's not!" She cried, shoving her face into his shoulder, "it's not! My little girl-she had a Death Eater tutoring her! My little…Ginny…"

She broke down again, her sobbing overtaking any possible words.

Tears filling his own eyes, Arthur hugged her close to him, rubbing her back and murmuring comfortingly as the throe passed.

Eventually, the heaving of Molly's chest began to lessen and she sat back up, wiping at her face and breathing heavily.

"It just doesn't end, Arthur," she said bitterly, "one thing after the other. And now-now we've got to worry that he-that he was trying to recruit her. Now we have to worry about what she's picked up from that monster."

"Ginny will be fine-" Arthur began, but Molly shook her head, her eyes swimming again.

"How could she be fine? You heard Albus, she trusted him! She trusted him, she trusted that memory of-of You Know Who. He must have made her think that he really cared about her. How could she just be fine after that?"

"We've always raised her well," he hesitantly replied, "she knows right from wrong."

"So? They've managed to pull people onto their side who came from normal families before. Remember Jugson? Rookwood? Crouch?"

"That's different."

"Only because we never thought something like that could happen to us!"

"Molly, Albus said that he'd spoken to her and to the other students Crouch was teaching. Professor Flitwick spoke to Luna, and they say…"

"I don't care what they say," she snarled, "She's my daughter"

"I know," he said soothingly, "she's my daughter too. Of course we should be worried. But we can't treat her with suspicion."

"How can I not? After spending so much time with a monster like that, after everything with the diary, how can I not be worried that she's been influenced by them?"

"Of course we should worry! But we can't risk alienating her. We need to watch and listen very carefully, and do whatever we can to counter any poison they've whispered to her."

Another spate of sobbing took her, shaking Molly like a leaf in the wind.

"Listen to me," Arthur said, "we're going to discuss all of this at length with Ginny. And this time, we won't just let it go. We're going to show her just how much we love and care for her."

"We've been trying that for two years!" Molly cried, "And she's just drifting further away from us! We've discussed it so many times, how she's become so much harder to talk with. And now this!"

She collapsed onto her husband again, hugging him as if for dear life.

"I don't want to lose her," she sobbed, "I can't. And with this war, with all of them at risk…"

"It's going to be fine," Arthur said thickly, "we're going to do everything we can."

"But is that enough?" Molly whispered. "I can't-I keep thinking that it's too late, that we can't-."

"We  _will_ get through this," he said, holding her tightly to him, "it's not too late. We'll get through this, dear. And the boys will help as well. We'll get through this, as a family."

Looking at him through tearful eyes, Molly could only hope that he was right.


	18. Fourth year, part one

Fourth Year, Part One.

"We're going to be moving tomorrow," her mother said, holding Ginny's hand, "to headquarters. We'll stay there until the end of the holidays."

Ginny nodded, completely suppressing the urge to rip her hand from her mother's grip and start screaming.

It had been a week since she'd returned to the Burrow, and it had undoubtedly been the most uncomfortable week she'd ever spent at home.

She figured it was because of Barty's true identity having been revealed and the Dark Lord's return, but her parents had been more overbearing than she could ever remember before, even worse than they'd been the summer after Potter had killed Tom.

Of course, Percy's choice to practically disown them all had certainly added to it.

The only time they left her alone was when she was in the bathroom or when she was going to bed, and even then, if she stayed in the loo too long there'd be a knock on the door, and more than once she'd had to feign sleep when she heard the floorboards creaking outside her room.

And whenever she was with them, they wanted to talk.

She'd only been home for a week, but she'd already had dozens of conversations about her lessons with Barty. Her parents, it seemed, were concerned that Barty might have been convincing her to join the Dark Lord.

It seemed like whenever her brothers weren't with them, they'd start talking to her about it. Questioning her about what exactly he'd taught her, telling her about the horrors of what the Dark Lord had done and telling her how much they loved her.

She thought that she was pulling her act off quite well. She told them how betrayed she felt, how she'd trusted him and even liked him and how guilty she was that she didn't pick it up earlier.

She forced herself to remember that his soul had been eaten, and allowed tears to drop from her eyes.

She thought she was pulling it off convincingly, but it was close to impossible to be certain. Her parents seemed slightly less worried when they spoke to her now than when they had the first day back, but they still barely gave her any time to herself. They still watched her all the time with cool, assessing gazes.

She still caught her mother looking at her and wiping at suspiciously wet eyes.

It had only been a week back, and she was quite sure that within another few weeks she'd lose her mind entirely.

Occlumency helped a bit, at least.

Ginny knew that she'd improved like crazy since returning to the Burrow, if only because she was doing it almost all the time. It was pretty much the only thing keeping her from running and grabbing the knife whenever her mother started another one of those well-meaning, absurdly frustrating conversations.

In fact, Occlumency had been the only thing keeping her from drawing her wand the other day, when her father had been talking about how terrible and evil the Dark Lord was.

Just like when she'd overheard her roommates talking about her, a red-rage had coated her vision, thoughts of blood and violence filling her mind.

Luckily, Barty had taught her well. Before her father could even notice her muscles tensing, she'd taken a deep breath, forcing all thought and emotion to vanish.

Then she'd slowly allowed it to trickle back and had almost vomited.

She'd made herself wait until the subject changed before excusing herself to the bathroom where the knife waited with its promise of sweet release from the guilty feelings twisting her stomach around.

She'd used the knife a lot, over that week. More than she could ever recall using it before.

It was the only thing that helped when she knew that she could be writing to the Dark Lord it only her parents would leave her alone for long enough to do it.

Without a doubt, it had been the most difficult week of her life. Worse than Higgs, worse than when Tom had been possessing her, worse than when Tom had been killed.

She was surrounded by her family, and couldn't recall feeling so cold and lonely ever before.

She'd asked if she could go to Luna's for a few days. Her parents had looked at each other then, her mother biting her lip and her father looking like he was steeling himself.

They'd told her no. With everything going on, they'd said, it was better for her to be around the family. With the Dark Lord having returned, it was better for the people who were on Dumbledore's side to stick together.

It was better for her to be where they could keep a close watch on her.

She hadn't tried to fight, not really. She'd told them that Luna was her best friend, that she loved spending time with her and that she really, really wanted to go.

And they'd still said no.

She still bore some hope that they'd change their minds after some time living at headquarters, but that hope was slowly dying.

"Hermione will be joining us next week," her mother went on, heedless to her hateful thoughts, "Ron's just heard from her. We're going to be putting the two of you together in a room. You're friends with Hermione, aren't you?"

"A bit," she said, "we talk sometimes."

"That's good. I really am sorry about Luna, but I just don't think it's a good idea with everything that's been going on."

' _No, rather make me share a room with the Mudblood. Fuck. I'll never have time to myself.'_

"But you said that he's being very quiet," she tried despite herself, "it's not like he'll attack the Lovegoods. Please, mum."

Molly shook her head sadly, clicking her tongue against her teeth and patting Ginny's hand softly.

"I'm sorry, dear. I know this seems terribly unfair. But it's terrifying for us. We know what it was like when You Know Who was in power before. We just want to do everything we can to keep you safe. And that means that you stay with us as much as possible."

' _I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much.'_

Ginny bowed her head, forcing her fury to recede.

"We know that Headquarters is safe," her mother continued. "It's under the Fidelius Charm, and Professor Dumbledore's added plenty of other protections. It'll be difficult enough for us to send you off to Hogwarts this year, what with everything that's happened."

"But Luna-"

"Let it rest, dear," came the tired answer, "please. We're not going to change our minds about this. I know it's hard, but you'll see Luna before you know it. And you can still send owls to her. We love you, Ginny. We're just doing what's best."

' _If you were doing what's best, you'd let me go to him! You'd let me be happy again!'  
_

"Fine," she said, still not meeting her mother's eye, "ok."

"We're going to leave as early in the morning as we can," Molly said, standing up, "try and pack your things."

Ginny just nodded.

After a few moments, her mother sighed and left the room, leaving the door slightly open.

When she was sure that she could hear her mother in the kitchen, she snuck the piece of parchment out from under her mattress.

" _My lord,"_ she wrote,  _"my family will be moving into the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix tomorrow. My mother said that it is under the Fidelius, but I will find out everything else that I can. I hope to be able to get more information about their plans when I am there."_

The stairs creaked and she quickly hid the parchment again, pulling out her trunk and starting to throw her stuff in it.

When she checked it later that night, the Dark Lord had replied.

" _I want to know everything. Who is in this order, their relationships, their likes and dislikes. Everything. You will spend as much time with Potter as you can. Make certain that he sees you as someone he can trust. Barty said that you could be an incredible spy. Prove him right."_

She hugged the parchment close to her chest, tears spilling down her face.

It was almost as good as having the Diary back.

* * *

While staying at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was not as useful as she'd thought it would be, Sirius Black was by far the worst part of it all.

It took her a few days to figure out what it was about the man that so bothered her, but eventually she came to an understanding.

She'd spent close to two years thinking of him as the Dark Lord's right-hand man, two years during which she believed everything the books and papers had written about him and a part of her idolized him.

Of course, Barty had told her the truth a while ago. But she hadn't quite accepted it, hadn't fully absorbed the implications of her having hero-worshipped the enemy.

Knowing the truth did not prevent the disappointment of being face-to-face with a blood traitor whose family would have fully supported him had he wished to help the Dark Lord.

It wouldn't have been quite so bad, had the man not clearly cared so much for Harry. It was like a slap in the face when she overheard him talking to her brother in such caring terms about the boy who had ruined her life.

And it definitely didn't help that he carried the same effortlessly confident atmosphere as Higgs had.

Still, much as she may have wanted to, she couldn't just avoid the man.

After all, she'd been ordered to find out as much as possible about the Order of the Phoenix.

She'd thought that living in their headquarters would have given countless opportunities to do so, but of course, her mother had to ruin everything.

Along with Ron, Hermione, and the Twins, she'd been hurried away from wherever the Order meetings were taking place, given chores and set to work like house-elves.

She did what she could to listen in, but even with Fred and George's Extendable Ears it was easier said than done.

Ginny had, however, been successfully able to find out a fair amount about the members of the Order.

Every night she waited until Hermione's breathing had settled into the smooth rhythms of sleep before taking out the parchment and a quill and writing whatever she'd found out about the Order members. Very little of it was important, secret information, but the Dark Lord had been explicit that she should tell him everything she could.

And so she did, writing about how the other members had said that Moody had become more paranoid since Barty kidnapped him, how Sturgis Podmore could often be found talking with Emmeline Vance and how Dedalus Diggle was always with Hestia Jones.

She wrote as much as she could, feeling a strange tingle whenever she put quill to paper that always reminded her of how it had been with the Diary, barely able to keep her squeals of joy silent when she saw the spidery writing appear back.

She told him how Sirius Black was usually with Lupin and seemed to care about Harry Potter an absurd amount, told him how she'd managed to overhear her brother talking to her parents about a roster for guard duty and how she'd heard Sirius complaining about the useless reports they were getting from someone named Arabella.

She told him how Kingsley was the Auror in charge of the search for Sirius, and how he and Tonks kept the Order informed of the going's on within the Auror Department.

Every so often, she had to sneak away to the bathroom and use the knife after writing the messages. Usually, it was when she was reporting on her family's activities, but she'd noticed it happening more and more when she wrote about Tonks as well.

Out of all the Order people, Tonks was the one she liked the most. The woman was just...cool.

She was fun and nice, and easy to talk to, and Ginny thought she was pretty as well.

And she was on the wrong side.

So she bit her lip and used the knife, cutting away her guilt and telling the Dark Lord everything she could about his enemies.

It was hard to keep it up, what with her sharing a room with Hermione, but she managed to write something every day. After all, it was the only light in the darkness which was number twelve Grimmauld Place.

* * *

"It must have been so difficult for you," her mother said, patting her gently on the hand, "to find out that he'd been lying all along."

She forced herself not to sigh, cleared her mind to keep the annoyance and anger from showing on her expression.

All she'd been doing was sitting down to eat some of the leftover salad and enjoy the emptiness of the kitchen when her mother had come in and started another one of her little talks.

She couldn't help but feel a burning flash of hatred for the blood-traitor bitch who had birthed her.

A flash of hatred which was immediately followed by an almost overpowering sense of shame.

"It was," she said, making her voice as thick as she could. "He just seemed so-so caring. Like he really wanted to help me."

She looked down, forcing herself to remember what it had been like when Harry had killed Tom and how she felt when she found out what happened to Barty.

Tears formed in her eyes, one falling and splashing in the kitchen table.

"He was a good actor," her mother said gently, "he managed to fool everyone."

' _He cared more about me than you ever have! He understood me!'_

"I know. He just seemed so normal. Exactly how dad always describes Moody."

"You need to remember, dear," her mother said, patting her hand again and making her want to rip it out of her grasp. "The Death Eaters, they don't care about anyone except themselves. It's good that you didn't suspect him. He'd have had no qualms about killing you if he thought you were putting him in danger."

She couldn't stop the fire from flashing in her eyes, couldn't stop the rage from rising like bile in her throat.

' _You stupid bitch,'_ she wanted to scream,  _'you don't know anything! You and dad, all you care about is helping muggles and listening to Dumbledore and worshipping that fucking boy!'_

Just for a second, she thought her feelings had been visible. For a fraction of a second, her mother's eyes seemed to narrow, a suspicious light coming into them.

Just for a second, and then it was gone.

"I-I know. They're-they're monsters. I saw at the World Cup."

She looked down again, hoping against hope that her mother would buy it.

"They are. Ginny, he didn't say anything about Muggles, did he? Or Muggleborns?"

She shook her head quickly.

"No."

"I suppose he wouldn't. It would have made you think that something was wrong."

Her mother stood up and leaned over, giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"We love you more than anything, dear. I just hope you know that."

"'Course I do," she said, kissing her back. "And I love you too."

' _Why can't you just leave me alone? Why can't you just let me do what I want?'_

* * *

A small piece of the letter tore in her haste to open the envelope, a tiny scrap of parchment falling to the floor.

This was the first letter Luna had sent since Ginny had told her that she couldn't come for part of the holidays.

Usually, a gap of a few weeks in letter writing from Luna would be no cause for alarm, but Ginny had wondered if her mother's overprotective attitude had just cost her the only real friend she had.

Feeling slightly apprehensive, she unfurled Luna's letter.

' _Dear Ginny,_

_I'm sorry I took so long to reply, my father and I were camping. As I said, we decided not to go away this summer so that we could save and go to Sweden next year, but we decided to spend a few days camping beside the stream near our house. It's been lovely, very quiet and relaxing. I wish you could have been with us, yesterday a family of robins landed next to our tent and they were so adorable you wouldn't believe it._

_I'm sorry that your mother wouldn't let you come, but I'm sure she's just doing what's best for you. Daddy says he thinks You Know Who really is back, and everyone knows how close Harry Potter is with your family, so I can understand her worry._

_I can't stop thinking about that day by the lake. I-'_ The rest of that sentence had been crossed out, scribbled over until Ginny couldn't read a word.

' _I can barely wait to see you again,'_ the letter continued on the following line,  _'I miss you. I hope your holidays are treating you well._

_Love,_

_Luna.'_

Ginny ran her fingers over the words at the end of the page, feeling as empty as she ever had before.

If only Luna would still love her if she told her the truth. If only she could even fool herself into believing that Luna would join her.

Everything would be so much better if only it didn't have to be an act.

With a sigh in her lip and tears in her eyes, Ginny began to write her reply.

* * *

She woke up in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright with her hands shaking, heart racing, and her groin feeling like it was aflame.

It was an almost pleasant sensation, in fact, the wetness between her legs and the tightness of her breasts.

"What the fuck?" She whispered, staring into the darkness.

In response, Hermione turned over with a soft grunt.

Ginny scowled, clearing her mind and lying back in bed with her heart beginning to slow.

It had been the same old dream with the Great Hall full of bodies.

The same dream, until the end.

As always, she'd wandered through the hall in search of a living person.

As always, she'd found one.

But it hadn't been Tom waiting there for her.

It had been Luna.

Like when it had been Tom in the dream, they'd kissed, their clothes vanishing as their bodies twined around each other.

Slowly, her breathing went back to normal, her hand creeping under the cover and into her pants.

It had felt so real, the feel of Luna's hands on her body, the taste of Luna's lipstick, the sensation of her tongue flicking her friend's nipple.

Her fingers began to dance, stroking her clit and teasing at her entrance.

It had felt so real, like a wonderful version of what Higgs had done to her.

Dream Luna had gotten to her knees, lapping at Ginny and making her squeal, pleasure rising up to swallow her.

Her fingers became more frantic, caressing her lips and softly pushing their way in. Her breathing quickened, the remembered ecstasy spreading once more.

She'd looked down, in her dream, and it hadn't been Luna between her legs.

It had been Tonks, licking her with that wicked grin.

Her back arched, a moan escaping her.

* * *

"He's really furious," Ron said softly, rubbing at his hand, "Not that I can blame him much."

Ginny kept her expression solemn, nodding and wiping at the shelf with a feather duster.

She couldn't blame Harry for being upset either. She probably would be in his position.

Couldn't blame him, but she definitely could enjoy his discomfort.

They were sitting in one of the small lounges off of the main one, making a token effort to at least look like they were cleaning.

"I hope they go and fetch him soon," Hermione said, wincing as she opened a drawer to be greeted by a cloud of dust, "If it's much longer, I'll end up putting things in a letter that I shouldn't."

"They can't just leave him there. If there's already Dementors going after him…"

"They still haven't said when they're going to fetch him?" Ginny asked.

"No. And mum got shirty with me for asking, so don't bother trying."

"We could try the Extendable Ears again," Hermione suggested, "I'm sure they're talking about their plans."

"Tonks told me they're going to be putting Imperturbable Charms on the kitchen and lounge," Ginny said, "I think she knows about the Ears, she winked afterwards and said it's worth knowing."

"I don't know why they won't just tell us something," said Ron moodily, punctuating his words with a slam as he closed a drawer far harder than necessary. "It's not like we're going to go blab it all over school or something."

"You're too young," Ginny said, putting on an imitation of her mother's voice. "Order information is for Order members only, and you have to be of age to join."

"It is strange though," Hermione said, "For You Know Who to send Dementors after Harry. If he's trying to keep quiet, why would he do something like that?"

Ginny shrugged, ignoring Ron's exclamation that nobody could really know why You Know Who did the things he did.

She was far more puzzled about it than the others, especially since she knew that the Dark Lord hadn't sent the Dementors.

She'd told him about the attack on Harry as soon as she'd heard about it, sneaking away in the chaos the news had caused and writing a message.

And the Dark Lord had been surprised. He hadn't known about it, not until she'd told him.

Someone else must have sent them.

"Although," Hermione continued, "he could just be hoping that no one believes Harry. I mean, the Prophet hasn't even reported it!"

"They wouldn't," Ron said with a snort, "they'd want to make a big thing only if he actually gets expelled."

The voices from the main lounge grew louder as footsteps sounded close to the door.

The three of them quickly fell silent, returning to the cleaning just as the door opened and the Order members filed out, hushing one another at the sight of the teenagers.

Snape was near the back of the group, his lips curling into their customary sneer when he looked at Ginny.

And then it happened.

His beady eyes caught hers and locked into place, and almost immediately, she felt it.

The ticklish, tingling sensation at the back of her mind that warned of Legilimency being used against her.

But Barty had taught her well.

The moment she sensed Snape's attempted intrusion, she wiped her mind as blank as a clean blackboard, clearing away all thoughts and feelings.

As she did so, she  _split_ her mind, keeping the upper part as empty as she could while pulling away a section wherein she could think.

Before she could even start creating those false memories though, Snape blinked and looked down, a strange expression flickering across his face for an instant.

' _What the fuck was that about?'_ She wondered, waving at Tonks and starting to walk toward her.

* * *

' _My lord,'_ she wrote, gritting her teeth and keeping her fury as deeply hidden as she could,  _'Potter arrived here tonight. He will be remaining here until September first. He seems to be very angry at having been kept without information. They're telling him about the Order activities now, but I was forced out of the room. I believe I will be able to get the Mudblood to tell me what they said.'_

She watched the words sink into the page and vanish, the terrible fury swirling up in her again.

It was beyond unfair, for them to tell everyone else these Order secrets and for her to be kept in the dark. The one useful thing that she could do, and they were keeping it from her.

It was enough to make her want to scream and attack them all.

Her heart sped up, excited joy briefly sweeping over the rage as she saw his reply begin to form.

' _Find out everything. Spend as much time with Potter as you can. Earn his trust, let him see you as a confidant.'_

She swallowed thickly, excitement vanishing as quickly as it had risen.

She did not relish the prospect of being in Harry's presence any more than she absolutely had to, but she would do it.

She would do whatever he asked her.

' _I will. My lord, Snape tried to use Legilimency on me today. I managed to keep him out with Occlumency, but he still tried. No one else is acting as if they suspect me though.'_

The reply was almost immediate, the Dark Lord's writing singing to her heart as it appeared.

' _Snape is my spy in the Order of the Phoenix, though Dumbledore believes the opposite. At some point after your return to school, I will inform him of your true loyalties and have him continue to train you. For now, do not worry about his suspicion, and continue gathering information for me. I have high hopes for you. Do not disappoint me.'_

"I won't," she whispered, "I promise, I won't."

* * *

"That was good thinking," Harry said, "with that music box."

She plastered a smile on her face, wishing that she could show him how disgusted he made her, just once.

Ron and Hermione weren't around, having been forced to help the twins clean out one of the basements while the adults had their meeting.

If not for the fact that she'd been ordered to make him trust her, she would have been finding it a lot harder to stomach his presence without wanting to curse him.

"Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself, when those doxies attacked."

"It was probably the only useful thing Lockhart taught us, actually. What to do when tiny creatures are flying at you."

She managed to stop her fist from automatically clenching as it had tried to at the mention of that man.

' _He probably admires him,'_ she thought, still keeping that easy grin on her face,  _'probably wants to be just like him.'_

"What did he do?"

"Hid under the desk. One of the pixies got hold of his wand and threw it out the window first."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't do that."

Harry shrugged, turning back to the chest he was trying to open.

"Had worse things to deal with over the last few months than a few doxies."

' _Now. Do it. Get him to trust you.'_

She walked up to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"It must have been terrible," she said softly.

She could feel his body shaking under her hand, knew that it hurt him to think about it.

' _Good. He deserves it. He ruined everything, he deserves it. It's his fault Barty's dead, his fault they all know that the Dark Lord's back. I hope it hurts.'_

"I can't imagine what it's like," she continued, "to fight  _him_ and then Dementors and all the bullshit the Prophet's saying. I'm sure it's terrible."

"It is," Harry said roughly, a tremor in his thick voice.

"You should talk about it. After my first year, I spoke to McGonagall about what happened. It helped. You need to get it out."

Harry kept his head resolutely facing away from her, totally silent for a minute or two.

"He just-killed Cedric," he finally said, "right in front of me. And it could have-it could have been me."

' _It should have been you.'_

"It would have been me, if he hadn't needed me alive. It was just-so quick, so meaningless. And no one understands, and I had to just go back to-to my aunt and uncle, with no connection to the Wizarding world, no idea of what was going on. And the Prophet keeps ragging on me, and they still don't want to tell me anything!"

She pushed up next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and quashing the tiny bit of sympathy that tried to spring up in her.

' _He deserves it.'_

"And they're just ignoring him," he continued, "Fudge and the ministry, they're just pretending like everything's ok. And it's all going to get worse before they realize."

"That sounds frustrating as anything."

"Yeah. It is. It's just so—"

He shook his head, sighing heavily.

"Thanks," He said, "I needed that."

"Any time. Honestly. That's what friends are for. And I'm sure things will turn out alright with the trial. It's going to be ok, you'll see."

' _Even If he won't let me kill you, I'm sure he'll still let me hurt you. You fucking bastard, this is all your fault!'_

* * *

She shifted on the hard kitchen stool, starting to grow impatient.

' _I swear, if this takes much longer…'_

"Ok, you can look now."

She opened her eyes, choking back a laugh at the sight that greeted her.

It was like looking into a really strange mirror.

Tonks had kept the pink hair, but had otherwise made her face look exactly like Ginny's, freckles and all.

"So? What do you think?"

"I think I should dye my hair pink," she said, collapsing into a spate of giggles immediately afterwards.

"I don't know," Tonks said, finally recovering as well, "I think you look better with the red."

It was still just the two of them in there, the final pieces of cake nothing more than crumbs on the table.

It wasn't the first time that she and Tonks had met for an impromptu devour everything left in the house session, nor was it the first time they'd ended up sitting and chatting for a while, with Tonks shifting her features into something amusing every so often whenever she felt the conversation needed more levity.

"So, you've been suspiciously quiet about any relationships at school."

Tonks said, leaning her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands.

"Spill the beans. There must be some guy with his eyes on you. Or vice versa."

' _The last guy to have eyes on me hanged himself.'_ She thought, suppressing an urge to cackle madly.

"Not really," she said.

"Come on! You know I'm not going to tell your brothers. Just tell me."

"What is this, some type of Auror interrogation technique?"

"This is just girl talk," Tonks said, "There's no one you have a crush on?"

Luna's face flashed through her mind, followed immediately by a memory of one of her dreams of Tom.

She couldn't stop the blush from spreading.

"Ha! I knew it! So, who is he?"

"Nobody," She quickly said.

Relentlessly, Tonks went on. "Is it that friend you mentioned, Colin?"

"God, no. Colin's just a friend."

Eyes sparkling, Tonks tapped her nose. "Just a friend, sure."

"It's not Colin. Definitely not."

"Is it...Ginny, is it a  _girl_?"

"No! I-"

"It's perfectly fine if it is," Tonks interrupted, "You know that, right?"

"I'm telling you, I-"

The kitchen door opened, Fred and George walking in and stopping just inside the room.

"Aha! The culprits have been caught!" Fred said, his eyes locked on the empty cake tin.

"Our own sister," George said sadly, shaking his head, "stealing our cake. What is this world coming to?"

"Such are the deprivations of war," Tonks replied with mock-solemnity. "No cake is safe."

With Fred and George there, the conversation quickly shifted away from relationships.

Ginny wasn't sure whether she was actually happy about that or not.

* * *

"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF-"

She separated herself from Fred and George, leaving them to their war-cry dance. She kept the grin on her face though, burying the desire to whip out her wand and attack.

She had to seem happy that Harry had been acquitted, had to seem excited and overjoyed, no matter how much she wanted to just fling the truth in their smiling faces.

To just shout it at then, to tell them that she would do everything she could to help the Dark Lord, to watch as their happiness crumbled into ashes.

She could see it perfectly clearly in her mind's eye, how her mother would start crying and her father would look like he had right after the fight with Percy.

She wanted to do it, to watch as they realized who she really was, as they showed her the hatred and disgust she deserved.

It would be worth it, to see them feel some of the horrific pain that she did.

It would be worth it, but only for a few seconds. Then they'd probably send her to St Mungo's, if they didn't emulate Barty's father and lock her in Azkaban or in the basement.

And then everything would be over.

She breathed deeply, walking over to the table and putting some salad on a plate, her mind empty as a summer sky.

A moment later, Harry walked up behind her, grabbing a plate of his own.

"Hey," she said, "Told you it'd all turn out alright."

"Yeah," he laughed, "you did. Seems you were right all along."

"I usually am," she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"Maybe. Listen, I wanted to thank you for that talk the other day. It really did help."

She turned to face him, looking into his naive, guileless eyes.

"Of course," she said, "any time."

' _He's going to kill you, you stupid piece of shit. He's going to kill you and then everything will be better.'_

* * *

" _My lord,"_ she wrote,  _"I will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow. I managed to get Potter to open up to me about his worries, and he has been trusting me more and more. I believe he is starting to see me as someone he can confide in."_

Almost immediately, the Dark Lord replied.

" _Tell me of his struggles."_

" _He is very frustrated with the ministry,"_ she wrote,  _"that they have not accepted what he said. He is worried that many people will die before they see the truth. He is angry with Dumbledore for ignoring him and not telling him anything, and is upset with how the Prophet has been portraying him."_

" _Good. If he lives, he should at least live in fear and pain. Your efforts are to be commended. You are to continue gaining his trust and reporting to me. Soon, soon you will no longer have to hide your true allegiance. Soon I will proudly proclaim you as one of my most loyal and successful followers. But until that day, you will remain a spy."_

" _I will, my lord. Thank you, I will not fail you."_

" _See that you do not. I will ask Severus to continue your training in a short while. For now, you are my spy, but when that role can no longer be maintained I want you to be able to kill. I want you to be able to fight against the best. I want you to make me proud."_

" _I will,"_ she wrote, tears of joy swelling up and overflowing onto the page, " _I will, my lord."_


	19. Fourth year, part two

Fourth Year, Part Two.

They'd barely got into the train when Ron and Hermione buggered off to the Prefects' meeting, stranding her with him.

Being in his company wasn't as unbearable now as it had been when he'd first arrived at Grimmauld Place, mainly thanks to the copious amounts of time she'd forced herself to spend with him.

She still felt a deep current of rage whenever she was with him, but she was so used to it that the flame in her chest felt almost normal.

She just had to keep reminding herself of how important gaining his trust was.

In fact, all she had to do was think of how proud the Dark Lord would be when she finally gave him the keys to Harry's weaknesses.

It was as clear as anything in her mind, how he would Mark her and declare to all the other Death Eaters that she was his most trustworthy, that she was most worthy of baring his sign on her skin.

It would be better than when she'd still thought her parents' opinions mattered before Tom had taught her the truth.

As much as ignorance had been bliss, she knew better now. Tom had shown her better over hundreds of late-night written conversations, and Barty had only confirmed those facts.

"You wanna go and find a compartment?"

She shook her head slightly, pulling herself back to the here and now and turning to face him with a smile.

"Sure."

The pistons began to thrum as they walked, the train departing King's Cross with a lurch.

All throughout the hallway, people kept staring at them.

"They probably all believe the Prophet," Harry said glumly.

"Hey," she said, "enough people know the truth. You'll see, there's plenty who don't think you're a liar."

"I don't know. It-"

"Ginny!"

The underlying rage at Harry vanished, joy filling her at the sound of Luna's voice.

Luna was standing just outside an open compartment, beaming and waving at Ginny to join her.

A moment later, Ginny had Luna in a tight hug, leaving Harry standing awkwardly behind them.

"I missed you," Luna said, "The summer was good, but I wish you could have come."

Ginny said nothing, simply enjoying the sensation of Luna's body against her, enjoying the long white-blonde hair draped over her head.

For a moment, she felt more peaceful then she had the entire summer.

And then Harry had to break it.

"Luna, right?" He asked.

She tensed up at the sound of his voice, making Luna look at her oddly for a second.

' _She's only been in our common room almost as much as you have! You should know who she is, you arrogant bastard!'_

"Yes," Luna said, extricating herself from Ginny. "And you're Harry Potter. The Prophet hasn't been very nice to you. Do you want to join us in the compartment?"

"Please," He said, sounding distinctly unexcited by the prospect.

"I think you're telling the truth," Luna announced when they had settled into their seats, "and so does my father. The Daily Prophet is always full of lies anyways."

Looking slightly cheered up by this, Harry opened his mouth.

Before he could talk and make her gorge rise, Ginny quickly asked: "So, what did you do for the rest of your summer?"

"Not too much. I helped my father fix his press when one of the cogs exploded, and otherwise mostly just read and drew a bit. What did you do?"

"Lots of cleaning," she said with a groan from Harry, "don't get me started."

"Ok. Did you get a chance for any Quidditch over the summer? You said you were hoping to play a bit."

She shook her head ruefully, Harry's presence in the compartment feeling like something scratching at her back.

The rest of the ride was far and beyond the most uncomfortable experience she'd had with Luna ever since they'd first become friends.

There was a tension between them, a heavy sense of a conversation waiting to happen.

It was there in the glances they shot at each other, the stilted way they both spoke.

It got a bit easier once Ron and Hermione arrived and turned the conversation toward Malfoy and Parkinson's absolute shittiness.

With the addition of the two of them, the conversation flowed less awkwardly, although Ginny didn't for a moment stop wishing that she and Luna had simply been given some time alone.

' _It's just an act,'_ she reminded herself for the umpteenth time as the train pulled up in Hogsmeade,  _'She doesn't matter that much, it's all just an act.'_

But Luna did matter, much as she told herself not.

As much as she pretended that she didn't, she still wanted to just sit alone with Luna and feel, just for a little bit, like she was a normal girl.

As they were getting off the train, Luna leaned over to her, squeezed her hand and whispered: "Let's go to the lake during lunch break tomorrow."

"I'd love to," she replied, squeezing back with her stomach doing a flip.

* * *

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," Luna said, staring unnervingly into her eyes, "That kiss."

"Me neither," she admitted.

"I've...I've never felt this way before. Ginny, I think I'm in love with you."

' _It's just an act. Just an act.'_

But knowing that it was all just an act she had to play did not keep her heart from fluttering.

"Luna-I-"

"I know," Luna said, her eyes swimming with sudden tears and her voice turning sad, "you care too much about what other people say."

"It's not just that," Ginny whispered.

"So what else is it?"

She couldn't tear her gaze away from Luna, couldn't stop herself from seeing the pain and confusion in those brilliant grey eyes.

But she couldn't admit either, couldn't tell Luna the truth.

She couldn't tell Luna what she'd realized a few days before school started again, how the obvious method of getting close to Harry had prevented itself.

She couldn't tell Luna what it was she would have to do.

"It's-I just…"

She trailed off, finally looking away.

The lake was calm and peaceful, a few ripples spreading here and there. A group of students sat by the edge, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

The sight of them filled her with jealous fury, the knowledge that they could just  _be_ while she had to walk this tightrope act infuriating her.

"What aren't you telling me?" Luna asked. "What is it, Ginny? You know that you can tell me anything…"

Ginny shook her head, suppressing the wild cackle that tried to make itself heard.

' _Yeah, right. Tell her how I'm helping the Dark Lord, that should go down well.'_

"It's nothing. Luna, I do love you. I just-I don't know. I don't know how I feel, I don't know what I want. But I do know that I wouldn't be able to handle it if-if people were pointing me out all the time, making comments to their friends and laughing about me."

For a long moment, Luna said nothing, simply taking Ginny's hand.

"No one has to know anything," she finally whispered, "We can be careful. No one will think we're anything more than good friends."

With a laugh as clear as a summer's day, Luna continued.

"It won't even be that different, actually. We'll just kiss each other sometimes."

The image of Luna from her dream popped into Ginny's mind, Luna naked and writhing under her tongue.

"I'd like that." She said.

* * *

"That woman is evil," she said, staring down at his hand and trying to keep her joy hidden. "Pure evil."

"And McGonagall just says to ignore her," Harry said, "even though she's doing the best she can to rile me up."

That, Ginny knew, was no exaggeration.

As hectic as the first week back had been, she'd made a point of spending as much time as possible with Harry, even more than she had with Luna.

She hadn't done much talking during those times, only giving him some encouraging words and pushing him to vent.

Even without that though, she'd have known how Umbridge was treating him. The school was buzzing with it, her roommates seeming to be unable to talk about anything else.

It was the topic on everyone's lips, people whispering the latest rumours to one another between classes.

Umbridge had given him a week's worth of detentions, Umbridge would give detentions to anyone else who said that the Dark Lord was alive, Umbridge wanted everyone to inform her if they heard of anyone repeating what Harry said as fact.

Even Ron managed to pull himself out of the stupor his new role on the Quidditch team had placed him in, at least for long enough to tell Ginny that she should keep her mouth shut in front of Umbridge.

Luna, at least, didn't feel the need to talk about it all day. Luna seemed content to discuss other things with Ginny.

Or to try and improve their kissing.

"I can't imagine how infuriating it must be," she said, "it's really impressive that you don't just lose it whenever she talks."

"She's not even teaching us anything," he went on, "and with Voldemort out there...I keep thinking of Hermione's…"

He blushed, looking down and muttering to himself.

"Hermione's what?"

"She-you can't laugh, alright?"

"I promise I won't."

"Fine," he sighed. "She wants to make a defence club, where we'll learn it ourselves. And she thinks I should be the teacher."

"That's not such a bad idea at all," she said after a moment, "You've got more practical experience than any of the rest of us."

' _Except me.'_

"I don't know," he said, "I just don't know. I don't want-I don't want anyone to think they know how to fight because I taught them a few spells. I don't want anyone to die because of me."

"I'm sure whatever decision you make will be the right one."

"Thanks," He said, his frown vanishing, "you're great, Ginny, you know that?"

Chuckling, she rubbed his shoulder.

"Thanks."

* * *

Burning with curiosity, she opened the envelope, pulling Percy's letter out and beginning to read.

He'd obviously wanted her to have some privacy when she read it, and so hadn't sent it along with the usual morning post. Unfortunately, the owl had arrived in the Common Room in the middle of an exploding snap tournament, one she'd decided to take part in.

She'd simply crumpled the letter up in her pocket and kept it there for the last few hours, waiting for a chance to read it. Now, with her roommates asleep, she had the chance.

 _'Dear Ginny,'_ it said.

_'It is very difficult for me to write to you in such a way, but I feel, as your older brother who cares a great deal for you, that I have a responsibility to do so._

_I do not wish to speak ill of our parents, I truly do not. I love them dearly, and I hope that reconciliation between us will be possible at some point, and I will be more than glad to accept any apologies offered._

_Nevertheless, I must say the truth._

_Ginny, our parents have made disastrously wrong decisions, decisions which have led them to fall in with a very harmful crowd._

_Dumbledore is, sadly, not the wizard he once was. You may have heard that he has lost his positions in the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards, but you have probably not heard that many of his long-time friends have abandoned him, saying that he appears to be falling senile._

_He is not the brilliant wizard he was, Ginny. With age and the terrible decline of his faculties, he has become hungry for power, desirous of anything that will keep him in his roles._

_Harry Potter, I believe, is a misguided, unstable boy who deserves our pity. Knowing the boy, I am certain that he is not acting out of malice, but is being manipulated by Dumbledore to further the headmaster's political goals._

_Many feel as I do, that Harry would do well with a short stint in St Mungo's. The trauma of his parents' deaths and his upbringing may well have acted as catalysts to leave him unhinged, possibly even deranged._

_Ginny, our parents have chosen to blindly follow Dumbledore, even though, discounting Harry, there is not a shred of evidence to support his outlandish claims, claims that would throw this country into chaos and hand him all the power he could want._

_Our parents' decision to remain close with Dumbledore is not merely unethical and immoral, but is terrible from a pragmatic perspective and downright irresponsible as well._

_Dumbledore will not retain the few positions of power he still has for much longer. He has always believed himself above the law, and the Ministry is determined to finally call him to task for this. When Dumbledore falls, he will not fall alone. He will drag everyone foolish enough to follow him down as well._

_It terrifies me to think of this, but we may one day be in a position that we will have to travel to Azkaban if we wish to visit our parents.  
_

_I have been kept up at night, wondering what would be with you and Ron in such a situation. Would our cousins take you in? Would the Ministry place you in foster care? Would I be able to support you both on my salary?_

_I do not know, and it frightens me greatly._

_You may think I am being overdramatic, you may assume that I am merely overstating the risk._

_But, Ginny, Sturgis Podmore, a well-known friend of Dumbledore, has recently been arrested and sent to Azkaban. Mundungus Fletcher, another known associate of Dumbledore, has been imprisoned in Azkaban on numerous occasions. Even Harry Potter was almost expelled from Hogwarts, were it not for a very shaky loophole._

_Ginny, the Aurors and Hit-Wizards have been searching, and have found nothing to support Dumbledore's claims. If You Know Who truly had returned, we would know._

_His use of You Know Who as a political tool is not merely disgraceful, but it is a slap in the face to all those who suffered at his hands, you included._

_I am well aware of what our family presumably thinks of me. I am confident that you have heard many unkind words and names applied to me._

_But Ginny, I truly do care for you. I only wish the best for you. I am not trying to tear our family apart._

_What, you may wonder, can you even do? After all, our parents have made up their minds, and it is unlikely that you will be able to encourage them to see the truth._

_I would advise that you try and make your way into Madam Umbridge's good graces. Having had the pleasure to work with her on occasion, I can reliably tell you that she is a truly lovely lady, and one who would be willing to help you as much as she is capable. She is a wonderful person to talk with, and she is likely to have good advice to impart. Not to mention that if you want a prefectship next year, showing her that you are a responsible young lady will be a good start._

_Other than that, there is, unfortunately, little I can offer in terms of practical advice._

_I hope your studies continue well._

_Yours in love and sincerity,_

_Your brother,_

_Percy.'_

She finished the letter, her expression caught somewhere between sorrow and joy.

It would be nice to be able to tell Percy the truth. It would be nice to be able to talk to him again.

But if she was to pretend to be on Harry's side, she had to do the pretending properly.

With tears in her eyes and a laugh in her chest, she Vanished the letter.

* * *

"Do you really think he's telling the truth?" Jasmine asked, her tone indicating exactly what she thought.

"I do," Ginny said, pulling the comb through her hair again.

The first time that her roommates had brought it up, she'd had some quick thinking to do.

The fewer people that believed Harry's story, the better things would be for the Dark Lord. Not only would it make everything easier for him, but it would have the nice side benefit of Harry feeling alone and pushed away, which itself would only serve to make him like her more.

But at the same time, she needed to really pull off her act. She needed him to think of her as someone who was totally on his side, as someone he could trust and rely on.

In the heat of the moment, she'd decided that the Dark Lord's orders for her to do whatever she needed to make him trust her outweighed his general plans for the public as a whole. She'd checked with him later, of course, and he'd approved of her choice.

But her roommates just wouldn't let it lie.

Jasmine was the worst, but Priscilla and Evelyn were almost as bad. They kept questioning her, wanting to make sure she really thought that Harry was telling the truth.

It was becoming more and more annoying every day.

"I think that he just wants the attention," Jasmine continued in her oh-so-cultured voice, "And Dumbledore just needs an excuse to maintain his position in politics, so-"

"Come on," Ginny blurted, "Dumbledore screwed himself over with this! He's lost all his power!"

"Oh, Ginny," Jasmine said pityingly, "you don't understand politics well enough. Father says that this is all a ploy for Dumbledore to regain greater strength."

' _What other pearls of wisdom did your father tell you?'_

"As for Potter," Jasmine continued-"

"You were ready enough to suck him off last year if he'd only given you any attention."

A ringing silence greeted her words, Jasmine blushing and looking taken aback.

"I don't think there's any call for such language!"

"Fuck off, Jasmine  _dear,"_  Ginny called, standing up and walking toward the door, "and could you try not to act like you're eighty years old?"

* * *

Careful to not let it slam, she closed the book with a sigh, covering her mouth to not inhale the cloud of dust that erupted.

Learning theory just wasn't good enough anymore.

She'd read up on everything Barty had suggested, making her way through dozens of chapters discussing Memory Charms and Apparition, and frankly, she  _needed_  to put her knowledge to the test. Not only with those, but so many other things as well.

It was all well and good knowing that she could cast spells on animals. If, as she knew she someday most probably would be, she was in a fight, she'd need to be able to cast them on people as well.

It wouldn't be enough to simply hope that just like she'd managed on animals she could manage with a person. She needed to know that she could do it.

For the past two weeks of term, she'd been beyond careful, not even allowing herself to think too much about stealing another pet for her experiments.

Now, she was finding it harder and harder to resist that need.

It was terrible, not actually doing anything. She was stagnating, not growing in anything except theoretical knowledge and the stuff she had to do for class, almost all of which she already knew.

She was stagnating, and she felt sure that if she waited too long she'd go crazy.

' _I'm going to have to actually try this stuff at some point. I'll have to prepare to try the Apparition, read up on how to fix Splinching. The Memory Charm—if I screw up, I could use the Imperius or Parerum to get them not to tell anyone, I guess. At least until I manage to do it properly.'_

Unless she just waited till the Dark Lord had told Snape to teach her.

He'd mentioned it again when they last spoke, only a few days before. He'd been pleased with her reports of how Harry had been confiding in her more and had told her to continue drawing him closer to her.

' _I'll read up on Splinching as much as possible,'_ she decided,  _'go over the Memory Charm stuff again as well. If nothing's happened with Snape in another week, I'll think more about that.'_

Feeling far more cheerful, she left the library.

* * *

"Colin? Could you come and help me with something?"

He smiled up at her, putting down his quill.

"Well, I did just finish this essay. What's up?"

She hesitated for a moment, a tiny voice in her mind begging her not to do this.

' _Barty said it's an indispensable tool, he said it's one of the most important spells to learn!'_

' _But if you screw up-'_

' _I've read everything about it, I know how to do it! Besides, if I don't, I'll just stay useless forever! He's just a Mudblood anyway.'_

"I've been practising this one spell," she lied, "a variant of the Disarming Charm. But I can't see if it's working properly unless I've got someone there. You wanna give me a hand?"

He agreed easily, getting up from the armchair and following her out of the Common Room, down to a Charms classroom.

Peeves had been in there, she thought. There were rude drawings on the chalkboard, and half of the chairs were upside down.

' _Can't be too long. The elves will come and clean soon enough.'_

"So what should I do?" He asked expectantly.

"Nothing. Just stand there, make sure you're holding your wand tightly."

As she raised her wand, he asked: "This won't hurt, right?"

"Not at all," she said, holding her wand straight and trying to remember everything she'd read. "Obliviate!"

The tip of her wand glowed with a bright blue light, momentarily blinding her.

When it faded, she saw Colin standing there with his eyes unfocused, looking confused.

' _It worked,'_ she thought, her heart rising,  _'it worked!'_

"Ginny?" He asked, looking around, "what-when did we come here? What-what's going on?"

"You said you'd help me practice a spell," she said, trying to sound concerned, "don't you remember?"

"I-I don't know-Ginny, I can't remember coming here, what's-"

"It's ok," she said, thinking quickly. "Just relax, Colin."

His arms were shaking, his eyes darting from side to side.

"How long ago did we come here?" He asked, "I was just-I was just doing my Herbology essay, and now I'm here, Ginny-"

' _I didn't think about the fake memory!'_ She realized,  _'idiot, I'm an idiot!'_

"Obliviate!" She repeated, focusing on him finishing his essay and agreeing to help her try out a spell.

Again, the bright light shone, and again when it faded he was standing there like an idiot, with his tongue sticking out of his half-open mouth.

She waited on tenterhooks until he blinked and gave a brisk shake of the head before turning to her and asking:

"So what should I do?"

She almost danced a jig, just managing to keep from bursting out in relieved laughter.

"Nothing. Just stand there and hold your wand tightly."

' _It's a shame to waste this time. Why not try something you've never done on a person before? Something that you know for sure you can do and that won't leave any side-effects. Try the terror curse on him.'_

Still coasting on the waves of her success, she decided to give it a try, raising her wand again.

"This-this won't hurt, will it?"

Doubt clamped down on her, sudden guilt at what she was about to do hitting her like a brick.

' _He's just a Mudblood. You aren't doing any permanent damage to him. Do it or stay weak forever.'_

"Not at all," she promised. "Facerus Timor!"

Like had happened every time she'd practised the spell, a greyish-black mist shot out of her wand, spreading out in a thin cloud.

But this time, there was a target.

"Ginny-"Colin started, but quickly cut off as the mist coalesced around him, vanishing into his form.

His eyes grew wide and distant, clouding over with what she knew were the nightmarish images the curse was forcing him to see.

His body started to shake, and as his mouth opened she realized he was going to scream.

She fired off a Silencing Charm a moment too late, wincing as a blood-curdling shriek erupted from him and echoed around the room.

' _Someone's going to come!'_

As she went to lift the spell, he dropped onto his arse, waving his hands before him in a pleading gesture, his mouth framing the word "no" over and over again.

She couldn't help but giggle at his expression, the fish-like way his mouth was moving.

Absolute power and success coursed through her veins, a feeling like she could do anything giving her more energy than she'd felt since Barty had been killed.

A full-blown laugh was ripped out of her when she noticed the dark spot spreading across his crotch, the acrid smell of urine assaulting her nose.

And as suddenly as it had begun, it finished, with Colin's eyes clearing and the trembling stopping.

He mouthed something, and she quickly cast the Counter-Charm for the Silencer, forcing her joy to vanish.

"What was that?" He croaked.

"Colin," she cried, rushing over to him, "I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

He pushed her arm away, using his hands to propel himself to his feet.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He growled, reaching down and picking his wand off the floor, "how could you do that?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-look, this will help clean you-Scourgify!"

He glanced down at himself before turning back to her, looking like he was either about to burst into tears or start screaming.

"What did-"

"Obliviate!"

* * *

Luna's lips were sweet against hers, like a balm on a wound. Their tongues met, retreating instinctively after the first touch before hesitantly coming together again.

She fisted Luna's hair, pulling her face toward her.

She opened her eyes for a moment, to see Luna's closed beatifically.

She could feel the wetness between her legs, her heart hammering in anticipatory nervousness.

Luna made a noise, a soft moan in her throat that drove all thought from Ginny's mind.

Her right hand left Luna's head, dropping down and sneaking under her shirt, rising up to cradle the swell of her fledgeling breasts.

Luna paused for a moment, her body tensing up against Ginny's, her hand going tight against the side of Ginny's face.

Gently, Ginny moved her hand over Luna's curves, the heartbeat thumping against her palm. She rubbed the erect nipple, flicking her finger against it experimentally, feeling Luna tremble against her.

Leaving Luna's chest, she began to explore downward, letting her nails lightly scratch Luna's belly as she moved.

Ever so slowly, not interrupting the kiss for a moment, she slid through the elastic in Luna's panties, prickly hairs rubbing up against her fingertips.

She circled around the small raised nub of flesh, gently extending her thumb and stroking it.

Luna gasped, jerking sideways and falling off of the chair, gripping Ginny's robes and pulling her down along with her.

They landed in a clump on the dusty floor, the shock of their fall forcing a high-pitched giggle out of Luna.

Ginny just lay there, the fire in her belly slowly vanishing.

"I'm sorry," Luna gasped, laughter strangling her words, "I didn't mean that."

"I hope not," Ginny said, "I'd hate to think I'm that bad at it."

Luna erupted in another peal of laughter at that and began rolling around on the floor, cackling and clutching at her sides.

Laughing, Ginny got up and dusted herself off, stretching a hand out to pull Luna up.

"I think there must be Nargles in here," Luna said, looking around the empty classroom. "They don't like displays of affection, that's why they hide in mistletoe. Maybe if we found somewhere that there are no Nargles?"

Ginny shook her head, smiling to herself.

There couldn't be that many places in the castle where they would be able to hide whenever they wanted. At least, not places that no one else knew about.

But there was a place like that, she realized. A place that no one alive but she knew about.

"Ginny? Ginny, what's wrong?"

She pulled herself out of her reverie, realizing that she had started to shake.

"I-nothing. Nothing's wrong."

Biting her lip, looking like she was going to burst into tears, Luna walked up to her and stared into her eyes.

"There's something you're not telling me," She said softly, "I know it. What's going on?"

"Nothing-"

"Don't lie to me!" Luna cried, her voice suddenly full of pain and fear.

"I just want to know what's going on," Luna said, "I just want to help you, Ginny. Something is hurting you, and I want to help."

For a moment, Ginny wavered, that old desire to tell the truth and beg for help returning with almost-overwhelming force, the nearly forgotten guilt crashing down on her.

' _Yeah, tell her the truth. I'm sure she'll still love you, I'm sure she'll want to help you when you tell her what you're planning. Tell her how you've met the Dark Lord, how you promised to help him, how you've been passing him all the information you can. Tell her what you did to Colin. She'll still love you then, won't she?'_

She emptied her mind, forcing that stupid idea to disappear.

"I'm just-I don't like hiding what we have."

"I told you," Luna said, "I would be happy to stop hiding. Love doesn't care about what people say."

"But I do."

Luna chewed on her lip, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

"Do you think your family wouldn't be happy?" She asked slowly, reaching out and putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "If they knew about you? That you like girls?"

She almost barked out a laugh at that.

She would have much bigger problems if her family knew all about her than them knowing that she liked girls.

"I don't know," she said, "and I'm nowhere near ready to find out."

Glancing at her watch, she swore under her breath.

"I need to go, I've got Potions now. You're coming with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow, right? We've got that meeting with Harry and Hermione and all of them."

"I'm looking forward to it very much," Luna said, "I'm sure Harry knows a lot about defence."

She smiled, her left eye twitching slightly.

"Yeah. He does."

* * *

She kept her disdain completely hidden as she looked around the room, watching the newly-coined DA learn how to do a spell they should have all known years before.

Even Colin seemed to be loving it, for all that he'd known how to do the Disarming Charm for almost two years now.

' _It's not the spell they're loving, idiot. It's the chance to be taught by the great Harry Potter.'_

Laughing, Luna picked up her wand.

"You're really good at this," she called, "let me have a turn."

' _You should have known how to do this before he showed you!'_

"Sure."

"Expelliarmus!" Luna cried, waving her wand wildly.

Ginny didn't even try to block the pale red jet which flew at her.

It hit, and her wand gave a little jerk.

"I think you need to make your movement tighter," she said, "it's far too wide."

"Could you show me again, please?" Luna asked.

"Sure," she said, raising her wand, and slowly going through the spell's motion. "Expelliarmus!"

Her spell shot forward much faster than Luna's had, and when it hit, Luna's wand flew from her hand.

"That was very good," came Harry's voice from right beside her.

She turned to find him standing there with an appreciative grin, watching her.

"Thanks," she said sweetly, "it's easy when we've got a teacher as good as you."

* * *

Between schoolwork, spending time with Luna and Harry, doing her own study and spell practice, and the DA, Ginny soon found her schedule as full as ever it had been.

What with all the extra work she'd been putting in for the previous two years, she was easily maintaining her position near the top of the class. Her Potions marks had dropped, as had History and Herbology, but in her other subjects, she was still among the top five or so.

Of course, no matter how well she knew the stuff, homework still took time to do, especially when they were essays. This was particularly noticeable in Transfiguration, where Professor McGonagall had started teaching things that Ginny had only read about in passing before.

After that, she was probably spending equal amounts of time between her own studies and with Luna.

Most of her breaks were spent with Luna, usually just relaxing and talking, but occasionally finding a nice hiding spot where they could snog.

Strangely enough, Luna had been more prudish after the time they fell in the empty classroom, and by the time Halloween came around Ginny had barely managed to get her hand up her robes again.

Once her roommates were asleep and the common room was quiet, Ginny would often sneak out to the library, to go continue her reading.

So far, she hadn't learned that much. After reading about Splinching and how the person Splinched usually couldn't heal themselves, she'd put Apparition on the back burner, instead researching eavesdropping charms, the Disillusionment Charm, and spells which could come in handy in a fight.

Out of those, the eavesdropping charms had been the only ones she'd really managed to get. Disillusionment Charms remained firmly out of her grasp, and she knew that the only way she'd really improve in her combat abilities was through practice.

She was sure that the DA could have been useful for that, if only any of them would have posed a challenge. As it was, the only one who even came close to a fair fight was Harry, but she was being careful to avoid showing him just what she was capable of. It was annoying as hell, having to mess up spells on purpose, all the time with her mind shouting at her that she knew how to do them properly, but it was the only thing to do.

She couldn't show them all just how good she was. Even ignoring all the questions it would raise, it would remove the element of surprise if she was ever in a situation where she had to fight them.

She did, of course, have the option of trying spells out on Colin and then Obliviating him again. If she needed to, she could always do that.

She'd decided, however, to wait a while before trying any spells out on Colin again. She'd figured that it wasn't worth it to risk doing serious damage to his mind. If was better to leave it for a while and see how he acted toward her.

So far, it seemed like the Memory Charm had worked properly, but she would wait until at least the winter break before doing anything more.

Other than all that, the majority of the rest of her time was going to Harry and gaining his trust.

It was definitely working. He'd been talking to her more and more, slowly opening up to her about how he felt.

He told her how furious Umbridge and the Ministry were making him, how terrified he was of open war coming again, how frustrated he was that Dumbledore was just ignoring him, how, as much as he feared it, he wanted the Dark Lord to come out into the open because then people would know the truth, how scared he was that Sirius would leave Grimmauld Place and get caught.

And best of all, she learned how guilty he felt about telling Cedric to take the cup along with him and how afraid he was that more people would die because of him.

Of course, as soon as she learned anything new, she told the Dark Lord.

His appreciative replies made everything worth it.

* * *

"Creevey," McGonagall said, "Where is your essay?"

His mouth dropped open, a confused look spreading across his face.

"I-"

"Again?" McGonagall sighed. "Creevey, this is the third time in the last two weeks that you have not completed your homework. I will see you in my office after dinner for your detention."

With a terrible fear filling her, Ginny tried to meet Colin's eye to reassure herself that it wasn't her fault.

He just kept his head down, holding his book bag with shaky hands.

 _'It's not my fault,'_ she told herself,  _'it's not from the Memory Charms. He's just a stupid Mudblood, that's all!'_

* * *

She lay awake in bed, the taste of pumpkin from the Halloween feast still strong on her tongue.

She itched to get out the parchment and write to the Dark Lord, even as she knew that he wouldn't be happy to be interrupted for small stuff.

Tom hadn't minded talking about minor things, he hadn't minded listening to her complain about her life. Tom had even started conversations sometimes.

Of course, she knew that the Dark Lord was exceptionally busy, and didn't have the time to waste on keeping her entertained. She knew that if she wanted his favour and attention she needed to earn it.

She knew all that, but still wished that things were the way they used to be.

At least she still could remember her conversations with Tom. His possession might have rendered half of her first year a blank spot in her mind, but their conversations were still as clear as if they had taken place only a day before.

_'"Tell me, Ginny," Tom wrote, his words swimming up through the page to her, "I've been sensing some hesitance from you to continue my work. Why is this so?"_

_She stared down at the Diary, shaking slightly and thinking if her response._

_It had only been a week since she'd gotten the Diary back from Harry after stupidly throwing it away. Only a week since Tom had been forced to punish her and make sure that she wouldn't do something that ungrateful again._

_The pain was still fresh in her memory, but more importantly, the joy at having him back was there as well._

_She wouldn't do anything that would make him doubt her willingness, wouldn't give him any reason to think that she wouldn't do whatever he wanted._

_She had taken too long to reply, another message was appearing._

_"I am waiting."_

_"I promise, Tom," She wrote, "I'll do whatever you want! I haven't complained, I'm not going to complain again, I promise!"_

_"You haven't complained," Tom replied, "But that isn't what I asked, is it? I asked why you are so hesitant to do what I want. Come now, Ginny. You know that you can tell me the truth."_

_She bit the end of her quill for a long moment before sighing and putting it back down to the page._

_"I just don't understand why we have to hurt then. They're only children, Tom."_

_"Mudblood children," he wrote back, "who will grow to be Mudblood adults. Every one of our targets has been one who hasn't even tried to adjust to our world-Creevey with his ridiculous camera and his prattle about his family, Finch-Fletchley babbling about Eton. Not only are they Mudbloods, but they are the type of Mudblood who will do their very best to destroy our world."_

_"I just wish we could do it without hurting them."_

_"Poor, naive Ginny," Tom replied, "The end, my love, justifies the means. Sometimes, one is required to do distasteful things because of what can be accomplished."_

_"I don't know…"_

_"If you had to choose between the entire wizarding world and the happiness of a few Mudbloods and Blood-traitors, would it really be a hard choice? Would the many not outweigh the few?"_

_"But they're not so bad!"_

_"Aren't they? Have you forgotten everything I showed you? All the books I had you read, all the stories I told you?"_

_"I haven't."_

_"Tell me of the Mudbloods' crimes, Ginny. I want you to tell me about them."_

_For a moment, she thought she heard her father's voice pleading with her, begging her not to give in._

_It was easy enough to ignore. Tom had asked her to do something, and that was what mattered._

_"They want to make us more like muggles. They want us to forget about our history and culture and to act like Muggles are better than us."_

_"And are Muggles better than us, Ginny? Are they perhaps, our equals?"_

_"No," she wrote, "they're animals. They don't even care about each other's lives, they destroy cities with bombs and try to kill us. They're jealous of us because they know we're better than them, and we have to hide away because they'll kill us or put us in zoos if they discover us."_

_"Tell me, dear. If an American wizard was to join Hogwarts, would they be accepted?"_

_"Of course," she wrote, confused by the sudden change in his questions._

_"And what if all this hypothetical boy spoke about was how much better everything was in America? Would he be accepted then? Would those who choose to bully him be correct or not?"_

_"They would. If he wants to come here, he shouldn't act like it's so bad here."_

_"Exactly my point. Replace the American wizard with a Mudblood and Hogwarts with the wizarding world as a whole, and you have answered your own question. Any Mudblood who accepts the deficiencies of the Muggles, sees them for what they are, and who strives to integrate themselves into wizarding culture will be accepted with open arms. It is the others who must be eradicated."_

_"I just-I don't know, Tom."_

_"The ends justify the means, my love. You must learn this. What would you do to give me a body?"_

_Her breath hitched for a moment, her belly fluttering with excitement._

_"Anything. Anything you need."_

_"What if the only way to do so was to kill someone?"_

_"I'd-I wouldn't want to."_

_"I did not ask whether you would want to. I did not ask whether you would enjoy it. I asked whether you would kill someone if it was necessary to return me to physical form. Would you, or would you not?"_

_"I would." She wrote, tears welling up in her eyes._

_"And that is because you understand that I am worth more than anyone else. Am I not?"_

_"You are."_

_"Even though you would hate doing it, you would still do whatever is necessary. That is because, on some level, you understand that the ends justify the means. I think the problem is that you do not care for the great damage Muggles and Mudbloods are doing to us. We must remedy this. Homework, Ginny. You will write a fifteen-page essay for me on the crimes of Muggles, Mudbloods, and Blood-traitors."  
_

_"Fifteen pages? That's-"_

_"You will write it in the diary," he interrupted, his words rising up and covering her attempt, "and you will begin now. You will not stop until you have finished."_

_"Tom, it's late-"_

_"You promised to do whatever I ask. Would you prefer I find someone more suitable? If you cannot even do what I want, what use are you to me?"_

_"I'll do it," she hurriedly wrote, terrible fear smothering her, "I'll do it, I'll do it, don't leave me!"_

_"You will do it now. And if I am unsatisfied, you will repeat it."_

_She bent down, her quill beginning to race across the page.'_

She had to smile, remembering that. True to his word, Tom had made her rewrite it. She'd stayed up all night and pretended to be sick to get out of classes the next day, and by the time she'd finished her fourth attempt, he was satisfied.

She'd only had the Diary for another two months after that, but every week for those two months saw her writing a new essay on the evils of Muggles, Mudbloods, and Blood-traitors. And every day she'd had to tell him, just in one or two sentences, about their sins.

* * *

She ran her hand through Luna's hair, idly twining a few strands around her fingers while she listened to her friend.

It was an unseasonably warm day, sunny enough even through the clouds for them to be outside without their coats. They were on the far side of the lake, near the forest, and there was no one around. At least, no one close enough to be able to see them clearly.

"So daddy asked the man how much he would sell the photographs for, but he refused. He said that the Unspeakables would be able to track him down if they ever saw them, and daddy wasn't willing to promise to keep them out of the Quibbler. It's a shame, really, because the public deserves to know, but I can't say I blame him."

"What do you think the Unspeakables would do if they caught him?"

Luna shivered, her head moving around in Ginny's lap and sending a thrill through her.

"I'd rather not think about it," she said in a hushed tone, "But nobody knows where Heliopaths come from in the first place."

Ginny waited a moment, but it seemed like Luna had nothing more to say on the subject. Shrugging, she asked: "What else did your father have to say?"

"Not very much. He's rather frustrated that people won't listen about He Who Must Not Be Named. He says it's so obvious, and that they're trying to do the same thing to Dumbledore and Harry that they did to Stubby Boardman."

The sun peeped through a gap in the clouds, a ray of light shining down onto Luna's face.

Luna's closed her eyes, her nose wrinkling in that rabbit-like way which always made Ginny feel like she would explode with need.

She pushed Luna off her lap, twisting herself and falling on the grass beside her with one fluid motion.

Before Luna could do more than give a soft giggle, Ginny had seized her head, pulling her close and meeting their lips together.

She kept her left hand tangled up in Luna's hair, her right one sneaking into her robes.

Luna tensed up, and for a second Ginny thought she was going to pull away. She didn't, instead relaxing, her hands moving from Ginny's shoulders to caress her sides.

Ginny danced her fingers across Luna's skin, gently stroking down until she found her clit, the soft fabric of Luna's underwear rubbing up against the back of her hand.

Luna's whole body shook when Ginny caressed it, a humming moan vibrating out into Ginny's mouth.

Luna's wandering hands fell lower, gripping at Ginny's thighs and ass.

Her blood aflame, Luna's noises filling her mind with nothing but urgent desire, Ginny let her fingers descend, pushing up against the wetness on Luna's lips.

Slowly, she pushed two of her fingers in, letting go of Luna's head with her other hand and pushing it up to Luna's tits, beginning to squeeze and stroke the hard nipples.

With a gasp, Luna pulled her face from Ginny, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

"Does it hurt?" Ginny asked, letting her fingers rest but not removing them.

"No," she gasped "it's wonderful."

She pushed deeper, pulling her fingers out and pushing them back in, rubbing up against the folds and clit as she did.

"Do me," she whispered, her body crushing up against Luna, "do me too."

She groaned as Luna's hand found her sex, the fingers hesitantly pushing their way in. She began to thrust her hips forward, mounting herself on Luna's hand.

Luna buckled under her, her hips arching and body shaking like she was having a fit, her neck stretching out and a sticky wetness flooding Ginny's hand.

"Don't stop," Ginny urged when Luna's hand paused its movement, "I'm almost there, almost-"

She broke off, a shaky moan erupting from her as her orgasm hit, a mind-numbing wave of pleasure starting at her crotch and crashing through her body.

Time stopped, nothing existing except the bliss that consumed her.

An eternity later, the ecstasy faded, leaving her lying in the grass beside Luna, their hands twined together.

"That was amazing," Luna said. "Is it always that good?"

An image of Higgs flashed through her mind, Higgs when he'd been slapping her and calling her his dirty little whore.

"I think so," she said, "If it's with someone you love."

* * *

"It's really unfair about your broom," she said, "and the Quidditch."

Harry just grunted, staring ahead with his jaw set.

"It's not forever though," she continued gently, "Umbridge won't last another year, no Defence professor does. And when the Ministry finds out the truth about the-You Know Who, you can bet all these decrees will go. You just need to hold out for the rest of the year."

_'If you survive that long.'_

"It's like she's taking everything away from me," he finally said, still staring at the wall, "I can't speak to Sirius, Hagrid's still not back, Dumbledore's ignoring me, and now I don't even have Quidditch."

"You still have the DA. You still have Ron and Hermione. And…you still have me."

He turned to look at her then, his eyes deep with emotion as they met hers.

She locked onto his gaze, allowing the air to grow heavy between them.

A minute or two later he coughed and looked away, reaching out blindly and taking her hand.

"Yeah," he said, "I do. Thank goodness for that."

* * *

Her potion simmered along perfectly, puffing out clouds of smoke of the exact reddish-brown shade the textbook described. For now, she just had to wait.

Snape was standing in front of Evelyn's cauldron, sneering down and commenting nastily about it.

As she always did when she saw him, Ginny wondered.

The Dark Lord had assured her that Snape was his spy, that he'd somehow convinced Dumbledore that he'd left the Death Eaters but was actually still loyal to the Dark Lord.

She knew, of course, that the Dark Lord could not be wrong.

Nevertheless, she couldn't quite bring herself to think of Snape as being on her side, and certainly not to admire him the way she had Barty.

There was something distinctly unlikeable about the man, something that made her want to disappear whenever he looked at her.

Barty had been cool, even when she'd still thought he was Moody. Barty had made her feel comfortable and accepted.

Barty had understood her in a way that she knew Snape never would.

Snape, like her, served the Dark Lord. But that wasn't enough to make her feel any camaraderie with him.

Even so, she still waited for the Dark Lord to order the man to teach her. It would be good to have someone to confide in, someone to show her how to actually progress. Even if that person was Snape.

And it was always possible that he would be slightly less caustic if he knew that she was also a spy, although she wasn't holding her breath.

She hadn't asked the Dark Lord again about telling Snape to teach her. Partially because the prospect of spending extra time with Snape did not excite her, but mostly because she didn't want to annoy her lord. She had, however, made a point of not meeting Snape's eyes ever since he tried to read her mind in Grimmauld Place.

A loud whistling noise sounded from behind her, followed by a loud bang that echoed through the dungeon classroom.

Turning her head to a chorus of excited whispers, she saw enormous multi-coloured sparks shooting from Colin's cauldron along with black smoke that looked toxic.

Snape was there in an instant, waving his wand lazily and vanishing the obviously poorly brewed contents.

"Tell me," he said, his voice cracking across the room like a whip, "Are you truly so idiotic as to leave out the armadillo bile after I warned that to do so could create a lethal concoction?"

"I-I forgot," Colin said, looking down with his shoulders shaking.

"You forgot? You forgot to add the ingredient I emphasised as being the most important one in this potion?"

_'It's not from the Memory charm. He's just a stupid Mudblood. That's all.'_

Colin was silent.

"Detention, Creevey. After dinner tonight you will report to the Hospital Wing where you will assist Madam Pomfrey with the cleaning of the bedpans. Perhaps that will engrave the importance of caution into your Swiss-cheese of a memory."

"Well?" Snape said, turning around, "have the rest of you finished your potions?"

When Snape had moved over to the Slytherin side of the classroom, Ginny turned around again and focused on Colin.

He was staring at his now-empty cauldron with tears in his eyes, a scared and confused look on his face.

_'It's not my fault! It's not the Memory Charms that did this, he's just an idiot!'_

When he looked up a few minutes later, she was still watching him.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, a look of total panic flickering across his suddenly pale face. His arm jerked, knocking a glass vial off of his desk with a crash.

Then colour started returning to his face, and the panic was replaced with an expression of pure confusion.

"You will stay after class to clean that up," Snape said, watching Colin with a small frown.

Before she could look away from him, Snape's eyes flickered to meet hers.

It began instantly, the ticklish pressure of Legilimency being used against her.

She exhaled, emptying her mind along with her breath, casting all her thoughts and emotions away.

The pressure didn't let up. If anything, it got stronger, so much so that she couldn't even think of splitting her mind, instead focusing all her energy on keeping her mind blank as thoughts of Colin kept trying to rise.

After what could have been seconds or hours, the pressure vanished.

 _'I need to tell the Dark Lord that he tried again,'_ she thought,  _'He'd want me to tell him.'_

* * *

She rushed out of the dungeons as soon as Potions finished, running back to Gryffindor tower as quickly as she could.

Snape hadn't tried Legilimency on her again. Instead, he'd spent the rest of the lesson alternating between watching her and Colin, all the time with that same thoughtful frown.

And now Colin was staying behind to clear up the mess he'd made. From what she'd read, a good enough Legilimens could pick up on Memory Charms.

Which meant that Snape was going to find out about her.

She couldn't quite imagine that a Death Eater would turn her in for experimenting on a Mudblood, but she had no idea how it was that Snape convinced Dumbledore to trust him.

For all she knew, Snape would turn her in just to make sure Dumbledore trusted him.

Huffing and puffing, she climbed up the stairs to her room, sighing with relief when she dropped into her bed and pulled the parchment from the hiding place in her bag.

 _"My lord,"_  she wrote,  _"Snape tried to do Legilimency on me again."_

She waited for a reply for a few minutes after the writing had disappeared before continuing.

_"A few months ago, I tested Memory Charms on a Mudblood. I think it may have had some side effects, he's been very forgetful since then and today reacted with shock and fear to seeing me. I think Snape suspects something, it was right after the Mudblood's fright that he tried to invade my mind."_

Ten minutes later, there was still no reply.

With a sigh, Ginny went down to lunch, hoping that the Dark Lord would see her messages before Snape did anything.

* * *

When she checked the parchment again that night, the Dark Lord had written back.

_"I have spoken to Severus. Tomorrow he will take you aside to discuss the continuing of your training._

_I find myself disappointed. I encourage initiative, but not stupidity. Your mission in Hogwarts is not to attack your schoolmates, worthy a task as that may be. Your purpose is to ferret out information for me. If you are the subject of suspicion, you will be entirely worthless to me._

_I have no need for worthless servants._

_But I am merciful. You will have one more chance. Do not waste it. Do not confuse your desires for mine. I want you to gain Potter's trust and to tell me everything he tells you, everything the Order tells him. I want you to learn how to fight and how you can be of use when your loyalty is revealed._

_I do not want you to be taking any risks of being revealed unless directly ordered to do so by me._

_My original feeling was that you could be of use._

_Prove my original assumption correct. Do not force me to cast you aside. Be of value to me, and you will be high among my friends._

_If not, you will be as useless to me as the rest of your family is._

_One more chance. If you do not use it to prove yourself of value to me, you will be_ _**nothing** _ _to me."_

By the time she finished the message she was sobbing, pawing through her bag for the knife while the silencing charms kept her roommates from hearing her misery.


	20. Interlude V

Interlude V

Severus stalked into the office, his mind a whirling ball of fear and stress.

This was perhaps the most catastrophic piece of information the Dark Lord had handed him since his return. The girl was accepted amongst them, only kept as distant from Order secrets as the rest of the brats. She was friends with Potter, and the arrogant fool would certainly never even begin to suspect her as belonging to the enemy. She was in Hogwarts, free to do whatever she pleaded to whichever innocent students she desired.

If he was not mistaken, she had already killed one under his care.

And he could think of nothing to do about it, nothing, at least, that could be done without revealing his true loyalties.

Still, Dumbledore had to be told. Severus had to maintain at least some hope that Dumbledore could think of something, weak though he knew that hope to be.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk and writing something as Severus entered.

"Ah, Severus. Just a moment."

While Dumbledore finished up whatever it was, Severus took the opportunity to examine his reflection in the glass door of the cabinet.

He looked as composed as ever he did in Dumbledore's presence. Ever since that night fourteen years previously when Dumbledore had seen him completely lose control, he'd been determined not to allow his armour to slip in front of the man again, even when he was bearing the sort of news he now had.

It was usually easy enough to lock himself away from his feelings. Occlumency helped, but the simple fact that he remembered how much it hurt to truly feel helped even more.

He could sense it, as usual, the constant self-loathing and pain that surrounded the tiny ocean of calm he always maintained.

There was a soft click as Albus put his quill down, and Severus turned.

"Well, Severus? What did Voldemort want this time?"

He flinched like he always did at the mention of his erstwhile master's name, the Mark on his arm seeming to burn for an instant.

"No one can know what I am about to tell you," he said, glancing at the wall of portraits behind Dumbledore. "No one."

"Preposterous," an elderly witch with terrifyingly long nose hair cried, waving her finger at him. "We are forbidden to divulge any of the current headmaster's secrets."

"It is disgraceful to even suggest such a thing," another wizard added, fingering his wand with a scowl.

"Thank you, Edessa and Giffard," Albus said with a ghost of a smile, "But that will be quite enough. Severus has more reason than any other to demand secrecy."

Grumbling, the portraits fell silent.

"I have been expressly forbidden from telling you this," Severus said, "And except maybe Wormtail, I am the only one who knows this."

Looking weary, Albus nodded.

"I will not act on this news without considering the implications very carefully," he promised, "This I assure you. What is it, Severus?"

"There was an altercation in my fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class today," he said, "Creevey forgot to add Armadillo Bile to his Girding Potion."

"Truly a state secret," one of the portraits huffed, "I'm surprised you didn't demand the Unbreakable-"

"Enough, Dylis. Severus, please continue."

"I had warned them numerous times to not leave the bile out. When I brought the error to his attention, he appeared extremely disoriented and distressed."

Albus' frown deepened, concern becoming visible on his face.

"When the boy noticed the Weasley girl looking at him," he continued, "he reacted with terror. Only for a moment, but it was there. And when it was gone, he was confused again."

Albus closed his eyes, holding his hand up and forcing Severus to pause.

He fancied he could see the wheels turning in Albus' mind as he processed it, putting the pieces together. From his vantage point, it looked like Albus was growing older before his eyes.

"You performed Legilimency on them both?" Albus finally asked, not opening his eyes.

"I tried to check Weasley while class was still in session. But she was prepared. She managed to keep me out, Albus. Nothing too sophisticated, no false memories or the like, but she kept her mind empty enough that I could not access anything."

Albus nodded as if he had been expecting it, his eyes slowly opening, deep wells of pain visible within.

"So you were not mistaken over the summer."

"Apparently not," he said with a sneer, "And her avoidance has not been mere coincidence."

"Memory Charms on Mr Creevey, I presume?"

To anyone else, Albus would have sounded merely conversational, but Severus knew better.

Over the past fourteen years, he'd seen enough to know that he was not the only one to ignore his emotions.

"Yes. And badly cast ones. It would take me far longer than the short time I had to even begin fixing them, and now I am not sure that I should do so."

Albus nodded again, the wrinkles on his face more prominent than Severus had ever seen them before.

"How long has she been serving Voldemort?" Albus asked.

"Crouch brought her to him last year. He is absolutely certain of her loyalty."

"Did he say why?"

He shook his head, hating his uselessness.

"Only that he examined her mind and trusts her loyalty more than any others. He believes she would choose not to breath before disobeying him."

"The enchantments on the Diary," Albus murmured, "The effects of his possession, and the results of his manipulations. I have been a naive fool."

"He said that Crouch was impressed with her acting ability. Apparently, Crouch only discovered her by accident after she had killed a fellow student."

Albus rubbed his forehead, his eyes glistening.

"Do you know why she murdered Mr Higgs?"

He shook his head, suppressing the rage that threatened to collapse his bubble of calm.

"No. But I will find out."

"Our first thought must be of the living," Albus said chidingly, "And of helping those we still can. Terrence is dead, Severus. The rest of our students are not."

He rolled his eyes, moving on.

"She has been ordered to give all the information that she can find to the Dark Lord, as well as to draw as close to Potter as possible."

Grimacing, he shook his head again.

"He said that...she has already ingratiated herself with Potter. Potter, she says, is closer to no-one other than her brother and Granger. And she plans to seduce him. The Dark Lord-he hinted that she would somehow bring Potter to him."

Albus stood up, gesturing for silence again, and began to pace before his desk, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

On his perch, Fawkes removed a wing from his face, adding a mournful whistle to the chorus of Albus' whirring and buzzing instruments.

After a while, Albus retook his seat.

"Has she has given him any information of import?"

"I was asked to explain why I had never reported on the nature of Black's relationship with Potter. How Potter sees him almost as a parent and how Black cares for no one like he does Potter."

"You are expected to train her, I presume?"

"I am to pick up where Crouch left off. He wants her to learn how to fight better. And how to Apparate."

"You will have to play the part," Albus said, "At least, until you have enough knowledge of her mental state. If she is truly so loyal to him, trying to dissuade her from her path would reveal too much."

He rolled his eyes, not deigning that with a response. Of course he'd thought about what to do, and of course he'd reached the only conclusion.

"Obviously," Albus said, "I cannot tell Harry, at this point or the Weasleys. I think it most unlikely that they will be able to keep it secret for long."

"What will you do?" He hissed, anger seeping into his core, "As always, you leave me to-"

"I understand your concerns, Severus," Albus said sharply, his hand rising into the air again, "I assure you, I am as disconcerted by this news as you are. I must think, Severus. I must think and plan. When you first meet with the girl, do not teach her anything. Use that time to ascertain her level of skill and knowledge. Find out how deep her loyalties truly lie. We need information, Severus. Without it, we are as blind men."

"Potter-"

"Is in grave danger," Albus said with a nod, "And I still dare not meet with him. Severus, you must debrief me as soon as you have finished with her. For now, I will do what I can to protect my students. Tipsy!"

A loud crack sounded in the office, Fawkes raising his head and affixing his eyes on the new arrival.

The house-elf was slightly larger than usual for his kind, the toga tight around his shoulders.

"Professor Dumbledore sir," it said with a small salute, "What can Tipsy be helping with?"

"I need a team of eight or ten elves," Albus said, "There is a student who I want to be placed under constant watch, twenty-four hours a day, preferably by two elves at a time. She cannot find out about this surveillance, nor can anyone else with the exception of Professor Snape and myself. Even other elves cannot be told."

"All the elves is being good at secrets," Tipsy said, a trace of insult in his high-pitched voice, "and bring unseen."

"Of course. But some, surely, are better than others? It is those who must be chosen. I think, also, that Dobby and Winky would be unsuitable for this job."

"They'se not being good for this," Tipsy agreed, shaking his head.

"Indeed. Please bring whichever elves you feel would be suitable as soon as you can. Thank you, Tipsy."

After giving a low bow towards both Albus and Severus, Tipsy vanished with another crack.

"When will you meet with her?"

"Tomorrow," he replied, "The Dark Lord wants it to happen as soon as possible."

Albus shook his head sadly, his eyes glistening again.

"You mentioned a plot to kidnap Harry. What do you know?"

"Very little. I believe that part of the reason I was informed about her was so that I could facilitate it. He will give me a Portkey which I will give her. She will take him to Hogsmeade and activate it. That is all I know so far."

"Harry will need to be told before then."

"You-"

"I know," Albus interrupted, "that you are the only possible source of this information. I know that it would reveal you to Voldemort. But, Severus, I cannot risk Harry's capture. Once this plot is more fleshed out, once you know more of it, we can plan in such a way to prevent him from being taken and to keep your loyalty hidden. But Harry needs to be told."

"You would cast me aside for him?" He spat.

"I was under the impression that you were interested in his safety." Dumbledore said coldly, "Severus, if Harry is taken there will be no use for a spy. If the truth about you is revealed, I can protect you from Voldemort. If Harry is lost, hope is lost with him."

Sighing, Albus continued.

"Find out more, Severus. Tell me about the girl, and about Voldemort's plans."

"I will."

"I can only hope that it is not too late to contain the situation."

That, Severus thought, was something he agreed with.

* * *

Luna lay on her bed with her hands behind her head, staring up at her bed's canopy.

She gave a heartfelt sigh, fatigue trying to make her sleep.

She fought against the Sandman's lure, rubbing her cheek to keep awake.

After her latest test's failure, she urgently needed to think.

Idly, she rubbed the bracelet around her wrist, the little bells' chimes bringing a sad smile to her lips.

She'd waved it around Ginny's head, earlier, letting the bells give off their noise. She'd waved and waved and even massaged Ginny's scalp, but still hadn't seen the tell-tale pink vapour of Wrackspurts.

Which meant it wasn't Wrackspurts.

One of her roommates grunted, the mattress singing as she turned over in her sleep.

It was always peaceful in her room at night. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Ginny that her housemates' gibes didn't bother her, but she did prefer it when it was all quiet and peaceful.

She never really felt so peaceful when people were around.

Except when she was with Ginny.

But lately, things with Ginny had been different. There was a whole new aspect to their relationship, and though Luna did enjoy it, sometimes, the way Ginny acted…

Well, it scared her a little.

The kissing was fine, amazing in fact, but when they moved beyond that Ginny seemed almost  _hungry_ , in a rather unnerving way.

If it was only that, Luna figured that she wouldn't be worried, not really.

But there were other strange things about Ginny.

Lately, Luna had stopped feeling so peaceful in Ginny's presence. She couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly it was, but she kept getting this sense that Ginny was lying to her. That Ginny was lying to her about a lot of things.

There was the terrible rage that she'd caught glimpses of, the horrific fury that only appeared for a second or two at most before vanishing under Ginny's face.

And it was almost always precipitated by a discussion of the DA or mention of Harry Potter.

That itself was very odd. Luna hadn't ever discovered why, but she had seen enough to know for certain that Ginny didn't like Harry Potter.

And yet, this year, Ginny had become friends with Harry. Friendly enough, in fact, that if Ginny wasn't her girlfriend, Luna would have wondered if she liked Harry in that way.

No doubt about it, there were a lot of strange things around Ginny.

Sometimes, Luna thought Ginny wore a carefully constructed mask.

And now she was certain that it wasn't the Wrackspurts. Which meant that she really should talk to Professor Flitwick.

But she couldn't quite make herself do it.

She knew that she should, knew that it was the right thing to do.

But she could still remember how peaceful she'd felt with Ginny, could still remember that joy of having a friend.

Even though things with Ginny weren't as wonderful as they had been, there was definitely a chance that they'd improve again.

If she told Professor Flitwick, she knew, it would never improve. She'd lose Ginny.

_'I can't risk that,_ ' she thought.  _'I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. I just need to talk to Ginny about it.'_

With worry gnawing at her belly, Luna turned over and went to sleep.


	21. Fourth Year, Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, there was a fuck up with the chapter name. Its fixed now

Fourth Year, Part Three

"I am interested," Snape said, "In how you became a part of our Lord's service."

"Didn't he tell you?" She asked, pulling her attention away from the strange jars on the shelves.

She'd never been in Snape's office before. She imagined it would seem different in the daytime, when there would be sounds filtering in from the rest of the castle. As it was, she'd almost been caught by Filch when she'd been sneaking down there.

They had to keep their meetings secret. After Barty, she couldn't imagine anyone being relaxed if they found out that she was getting more private lessons. Not to mention that they'd all want to know what Snape was teaching her.

"I was told to ask you."

Ginny barely had to think about it before answering. The Dark Lord had told her to work with Snape, and she would obey.

"I had the Diary," she said, "The one he enchanted with a memory of him. I got to know him, and he taught me the truth."

"The truth about what?"

"Everything," she replied with a little laugh. "Muggles and Mudbloods and Blood-traitors. How Dumbledore and people like him are going to destroy everything we have."

"I was under the impression that the diary would have killed you," Snape said, "to give the memory within life."

"It was meant to," She snarled, "But Potter ruined everything. Tom-He would have had actual life, he'd have been able to bring the Dark Lord back so much earlier, everything would have been so much better! I wouldn't have had to-It would all have been so much better! But Potter ruined it, he killed Tom, he stopped it from happening! Arrogant, self-centred, fame-hungry bastard, he ruined everything!"

"That's very...loyal of you," Snape said after a moment, "Very dedicated. Even many Marked Death Eaters would not be willing to sacrifice themselves for our Lord. And, I must say, a more astute estimation of Potter than I have heard before."

"Barty told me about them," she said, "All of them, just trying to use him to get their own power. But he's-he's everything."

"Very true. It is rather impressive how you have managed to keep your loyalty hidden, all this time."

"It's been hard, sometimes." She admitted, "With my family, and friends. But I think I've mostly managed. Barty found out, but it was for the best. He took me to meet  _him_ , and he started teaching me."

Snape nodded his head, a smile looking odd on his face.

It was strange how different he seemed out of the usual situation where she met him. Unlike in class or in the hallways, the last few minutes with him had seemed almost comfortable.

Even when she'd known that they were on the same side, she'd never imagined that she'd feel able to talk to him and feel natural.

"Tell me," he asked, "What did you do after the diary was destroyed? I find it difficult to picture you simply ignoring the possibility of finding him again."

"I didn't. I started reading up on spells that I could use to help him. Things that I could use to fight. I started practising them, and I got the Mudblood to help me."

"Creevey?"

"Yeah. And I found a way to sneak into the Restricted Section. So I started reading up on theory and spells that I could do, practising them in empty classrooms and that type of thing."

"Teaching yourself the Dark Arts?" Snape asked sharply, "That is absurdly dangerous."

"I know. But I couldn't just sit around and do nothing. I learned some basic healing spells first-"

"None of which are any use against dark magic."

"I know. But I had to do something."

"Did you use any of these spells on Creevey then?"

"No. Couldn't really do any of them properly until last year. And I only tested stuff on Creevey a few months ago. Back then, I was just using him for someone to duel against, someone to practise fighting with."

"Tell me about last year. How Crouch discovered you, what happened with Terrence."

She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she didn't have to revisit it.

"Higgs found me in the Restricted Section. I was dumb, snuck in during the day. He was gonna turn me in."

"So you killed him. That was a foolish manoeuvre. You had Dumbledore and the rest of the staff on high alert."

"He didn't give me a choice!" She hissed, her hands suddenly shaking, "He made me-I had to-"

"Surely you could have convinced him not to turn you in?"

A cackle tore its way out of her, her hands seeming to act on their own accord and slamming down onto his desk.

"I tried," she babbled, "I did everything he wanted. Whenever he wanted, I had to go to his secret room and be his-his little whore! And I-I didn't have a choice, he was gonna turn me in, they would have all known that I wanted to help To-The Dark Lord, they'd have known! I had to do what he wanted, and it just got worse and worse and I fucking killed him!"

She had stood up at some point and was leaning over his desk, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked completely unfazed.

"I killed him," she giggled, "and it was incredible!"

"I'm sorry," Snape said quietly.

"He pissed himself when I made him put his head in the noose," she said, "He got to be the one afraid, then."

"I'm sorry you went through that."

She shrugged, dropping back into her chair.

"It was the Parerum, correct? You tested it on people's pets first?"

"Yeah. On Mrs Norris, Crookshanks, a few owls and rats."

"And Longbottom's toad?"

"No. Trevor was for something else. To see if I could pull off that strangulation curse, Praefoco."

"And did you?"

She shrugged again.

"Killed the toad alright. I still don't know how well it would work on a person."

"And then Crouch discovered you?"

"Yeah. He took me to see the Dark Lord. And he helped cover up that it was me, with Higgs."

"And then he began to train you. What did he teach you?"

"Mostly Occlumency," she said with a grin. "But lots of theory of other stuff. He taught me the Unforgivables, and we'd started on Conjuration. He had me learn about Memory Charms and Disillusionments and that type of thing. And he was going to start with Apparition."

"Your Occlumency is certainly serviceable. You were successful at casting the Unforgivables?"

"On spiders. Conjuring stuff is still totally beyond me, and I can't do Disillusionments properly. Memory Charms-"

"Yes," Snape interrupted. "Tell me about Memory Charms. What did you do to Creevey?"

"I've been reading about them for ages," she said, "everything I could find. I needed to practice on someone, otherwise, I'd never know if I could do them. So I convinced him to come with me, told him I wanted his help to test out a spell. I did the Memory Charm, and it seemed to work, but I hadn't thought of the fake memory I wanted to give him. So I had to do it again. And then I figured, since I knew that it worked, I might as well try something else before wiping him again and sending him back."

"What did you do?"

She paused for a second, eyeing him. He looked indifferent and uncaring, but there had definitely been a hint of worry in his voice.

"The Terror Curse," she said with a shrug. "Facerus Timor. It worked. And when I did the Memory Charm again, it worked too."

Snape sighed, shaking his head.

"It did not work," he said, "not entirely. It was probably only a minor error you made, but you repeated the charm three times. It damaged him, and I will have to spend valuable time fixing up your mistake."

"He's just a Mudblood."

Snape gave her the type of glare usually reserved for Colin, one which said, in no uncertain terms, that she was duller than the Potions' ingredients in their jars on the wall.

"He is a student here. Any erratic behaviour will be noticed. And it will be examined. You will not repeat such stupidity again."

"I won't."

"I will believe you capable of acting intelligently when you demonstrate it yourself. The Dark Lord desires you capable of Apparition, and he wants you able to survive a fight. These will be our two main objectives."

"How will we do the Apparition? It doesn't work in the castle, right?"

"Correct. It is not unheard of for Professors to visit Hogsmeade. You will accompany me, under a Disillusionment Charm."

"Ok."

"We will be meeting twice a week, minimum. I will assign you homework, and I expect it to be done with a greater level of efficiency than you have shown in Potions. I will be reporting your progress, or lack thereof, to the Dark Lord. Do not disappoint him."

"I won't. I won't, I promise."

He sneered at her, his usual expression far more familiar than the almost gentle way he'd acted throughout most of this meeting.

"That remains to be seen. I will inform you when next we shall meet. Goodnight."

With a muttered goodnight, she left the office.

* * *

When Albus removed his head from the Pensieve, he was wearing his weathered old man face again. The wrinkle lines across his cheeks were clearer than ever before.

Albus had wanted to view Snape's memories of his meeting with her before hearing Snape's thoughts, the better to form his own, unbiased opinion.

From the tears lurking in his eyes, it appeared that Albus could see exactly where she stood.

"She truly is more dedicated to him than any other," Severus said, "with the possible exception of Bellatrix."

"Unfortunately, so it appears. I believe the persona you have adopted with her to be fitting. She will trust you, if she does not already."

"I know," he hissed. "She will take my guidance as further proof that she should retain her loyalty to the Dark Lord. Every time I meet with her, it will lower the possibility of her ever coming back."

"If you do not meet with her," Albus said, "She will remain on Voldemort's side, and we will have lost our only spy. You have no choice, Severus."

"And what happens when she uses the training  _I_ give her to kill? Will my value as a spy wash the blood from my hands?"

"She is perfectly capable of killing and torturing without your teaching," Albus said with a frown, "Valuable though I'm sure your lessons will be. Severus, we have discussed this. It is eminently possible that you will have to give Voldemort correct information, information that will lead to casualties. Is this any worse?"

"She is here, at Hogwarts. Surrounded by children who do not know of her danger or madness. She is at Hogwarts, where the boy who you said must be protected at all costs dwells."

"Harry is safe, Severus."

"Do not-"

"As of this morning," Albus interrupted, "two house-elves are watching Miss Weasley at all times. If she even appears to pose a threat to any student, one of them will alert you or me. Another elf is watching Harry at all times, with instructions to Apparate him away if anyone tries to attack. The ghosts and portraits are paying attention to Harry as well, and when he goes to Hogsmeade, there will be members of the Order tailing him."

"The girl-"

"When you know more about this plan to kidnap Harry," Albus continued, blatantly ignoring him, "Harry will be told the truth. Harry will be safe, Severus. And if all goes well, we will be able to use the failed kidnapping attempt as a way to capture Miss Weasley. You may very possibly be able to remain a spy, all while Voldemort loses a valuable asset. Find out more, Severus. Find out more, and continue to play your role."

* * *

_"Severus reports that you appear to be placing much effort into his training sessions. Perhaps my trust was not misplaced in you."_

She smiled widely, her heart feeling like it would burst with pride.

She'd only met with Snape four times over the past two weeks, but those four times had been fantastic. She hadn't accomplished much in their two trips to Hogsmeade, still not having managed to even come close to Apparating, but the other two sessions had been incredible. Snape hadn't been spending quite as much time duelling with her as Barty had, but it was enough.

 _"Thank you, my lord,"_ she wrote.

_"I have been informed that you are still incapable of Apparition. You must remedy this."_

She put her quill to the parchment and was about to begin writing a reply assuring him that she would, when another message appeared.

_"Next term, you will bring Potter to me. I will be sending you a Portkey, but nevertheless, you must be capable of Apparition before then."_

_"I will, my lord. I promise, I will-"_

_"I want you to seduce Potter. Next term, you will take him to Hogsmeade with you, and from there you will bring him to me. He is staying with your family over the holidays, is he not?"_

_"He is,"_ she wrote,  _"I could bring him from my home, and-"_

_"No. There are things that must happen before Potter can be taken. But you will use your time with him well. Do whatever it takes to ensure that he trusts and wants you."_

_"I will."_

_"Serve me well,"_ The Dark Lord replied,  _"And I will gladly mark you as one of my favoured."_

* * *

She sat perched on the armchair in Grimmauld Place, staring at the wall with her confused and exhausted thoughts circling her mind aimlessly.

Fred and George both looked to be asleep, propped up in uncomfortable positions though they were. She couldn't tell if Ron was awake or asleep, but she thought that he was awake. Harry and Sirius were both awake.

She knew that she should go and talk to Harry, knew that she should try and use the sympathy he was certainly feeling for her to pull him closer.

She knew that she would punish herself for her weakness later, but right then, she just couldn't bear to do it.

When McGonagall had first woken her up, her immediate, panicked assumption had been that she'd somehow been found out.

It was only a minute or two later, when she'd followed her Head of House to the Common Room and found the twins waiting with equally perplexed and frightened expressions that it had been explained.

Their father had been doing something for the Order, and he'd been badly injured in doing so.

From their mother's note, it sounded like he was more than just badly injured.

It sounded, in fact, like he was hovering on death's door.

A sob wrenched through her, only her practice managing to keep it from being voiced.

It was a possibility she'd known about for a long time, a possibility she'd done her best to ignore.

Her family had sided with Dumbledore and were fighting against the Dark Lord, and that meant that chances were good they'd be hurt or killed.

_'He's just a Blood-traitor. They all are. It's disgusting that you even still care for them.'_

She shook her head, trying to dislodge that thought as the tears overflowed.

They were Blood-traitors, she knew. Abominable Blood-traitors who betrayed their entire world for Muggles and Mudbloods.

But that still didn't entirely take away from the fact that he was her father. He was her father, worthless, muggle-obsessed fool that he was, and she couldn't stop herself from crying for him.

_'Weak. You've known this would come for a long time. Tom told you that your family was the enemy, and you were so scared of that fact that you threw away the Diary. Barty told you that you had to choose, and you still haven't. Weak. You think you can really help him if you cry over a Blood-traitor?"_

_'I have chosen,'_ she told herself.  _'I have!'_

_'Then why are you sad? You've known this would come, how can you still be sad for someone like him? You should be happy!'_

_'I can't just control how I feel like that!'_

_'Then what's the point of learning Occlumency been?'_

She shivered, shaking her head and breathing deeply, emptying her mind and heart.

Blissful calm settled over her, the absence of feeling as pleasurable to her as anything she'd ever experienced.

 _'I'm not sad,'_  she told herself sternly,  _'I'm not. He's just a stupid Blood-traitor, and it's his own fault for getting in the Dark Lord's way. I'm not sad!'_

* * *

_"My lord,"_ she wrote,  _"Potter has told me that he saw through the eyes of your snake. He has definitely come to trust me, after I comforted him from his fears. He has admitted that he has been having dreams, dreams that he believes are flashes of your thoughts and emotions."_

Almost immediately, the Dark Lord replied.

_"It is certainly something that I will explore once you have brought him to me. What else has he said?'_

_'He is extremely frustrated, my lord. He is angry at Dumbledore for not speaking with him and explaining what is going on. He is also very much unhappy with Hogwarts at the moment. He said that if not for his Defence club, he would think seriously about not returning.'_

_'You have not proven capable of Apparition yet, have you?'_

_'I haven't. But I've been reading the stuff Snape gave me, and I think-'_

_'You will learn to do so soon. Severus informs me that there will be a Hogsmeade weekend on Valentine's Day. You will bring Potter to me then.'_

_'I will do my best.'_

_'No. You will do better. Until such time as you are capable of it, your meetings with Severus will comprise of nothing but Apparition practice. And you will be meeting with him at least thrice weekly, if not more. I will not wait for Potter a day longer than necessary. If you wish me to be proud of you, then you will give me a reason to do so.'  
_

_'I will. I will.'_

_'Tell me,"_ the Dark Lord wrote,  _"How do you feel about your father's injury? I desire an honest answer."_

She hesitated, staring at his question for a long moment, confused emotions twisting her mind.

 _"I wish that he hadn't had to be injured, my lord,"_ she finally wrote, heart thudding in her chest.  _"But it was his own fault. He chose the wrong side."_

_"Yes. He did. One day, he and the rest of your family will kneel at my feet and beg to be allowed to live and serve. If you have proven your worth by then, perhaps I will even give my assent. Would you like that?"_

_"I think I would, my lord."_

_"Then do my bidding."_

* * *

"So they say you're getting better?"

Her father nodded, making a face as he sipped at the gurdyroot juice Luna and her equally odd father had brought.

It was the first time that she was alone with her father since the incident. She'd avoided it until now, scared that he'd somehow be able to see something in her eyes.

It hadn't been too hard to avoid, really. What with the enormous crowd that formed whenever the family visited, it would almost have harder to actually be alone with him.

It was almost three weeks since he'd been attacked, and the holidays were nearly over. It sounded like he wouldn't be in the hospital for much longer, and frankly, she couldn't avoid spending time with him, especially not since Luna had said that she and her father wanted to visit.

She just hoped that her use of Occlumency and the knife had been enough to keep her looking no different than what he expected to see from his little girl.

"It was very nice of Luna and Xenophilius to come, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Um, I don't think that drink really has healing powers. Luna and her father seem to believe a lot of...strange things."

"Oh, I know," he said, taking another sip. "Old Xeno was always quite eccentric, though it did get much worse after Pandora died. Sometimes, the death of a loved one can really unhinge people."

She nodded, her eyes swimming with tears.

He smiled sadly, reaching out and taking her hand.

"I'm not going to die. But You Know Who, he'd have killed me without a second thought. I won't say it's good that I got hurt, but it is good that you can see the reality. He would have killed me and it wouldn't have changed anything for him. He tried to kill me, using his snake as easily as he would a spell. He tried to kill me, and I would have died if Harry hadn't had that dream."

"I know." She said thickly.

"Now you do. You Know Who and his followers don't care who they kill, dear. It's a hard thing for people like us to understand, but it's true. They just don't care."

_'They do, they only kill people who're fighting them or-or Muggles, but it's always for a reason! It's your fault you got in his way!'_

"I can't promise you that nobody's going to get hurt," he continued, "But if we all stay together, we'll get through this as a family."

_'We won't, not if you stay on the wrong side! You're all going to die, and it's all your fault!'_

* * *

"So, they've decided that I'm going to be getting these extra lessons from Snape. In this thing called Occlumency."

She paused for a second before straightening up, throwing an errant sock into her trunk.

"Yeah? What is that?"

He shrugged, his leg swinging back and forth, thumping as it hit the underside of the desk.

Ron and Hermione were both downstairs, helping her mother with all the last minute preparations that precipitated the return to Hogwarts.

"He said it's the way of defending your mind against external penetrations, or something like that. Because of this whole connection with Voldemort thing."

She flinched at the name, her Transfiguration textbook slipping from her grip and thumping to the floor.

"At least they're taking it seriously," she offered.

"Yeah. But extra lessons with Snape!"

"Maybe he won't be as bad outside of the classroom?"

"I doubt that," he said with a snort. "He really, really hates me."

_'I'm not surprised at all.'_

"Apparently, he hated my father too. Extra lessons with Snape and no Quidditch. This term is going to be a nightmare."

She turned around slowly, steeling herself.

She walked toward him, glancing at the door for a moment to ensure it was still closed before returning her gaze to his eyes, watching as they widened and his pupils expanded.

"You'll still have the DA," she said softly. "And you'll still have Ron and Hermione."

She was so close to him now that she could feel his breath as he exhaled. His eyes were glued to hers.

Swallowing down her disgust, she moved forward, pressing her lips to his.

It wasn't so bad, as kisses went. He moved awkwardly, his nose pressing up against her, and he seemed unsure of what to do with his tongue, but it wasn't so bad.

If it had been anyone other than him, she might even have enjoyed it.

When she could stand it no longer, she pulled away, still keeping her face close to his.

"And you'll still have me. Maybe it'll be more like a dream than a nightmare."

* * *

She stared at the newspaper, forcing a horrified and frightened expression onto her face.

The faces of the Azkaban escapees stared out at her from the front page, scowling and grinning from their mugshots.

 _'This is what he was waiting for,'_ she realized.  _'It was this, he wanted them to escape before I can take him Potter.'_

Entranced, she couldn't drag her attention away from the paper.

One of the pictures, in particular, captivated her, a photograph of a dark-haired, heavily-lidded lady, her features lit up with a fanatic glow. She was gazing imperiously at the photographer as if the camera was recording her crowning moment.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ginny had heard much about Bellatrix from Barty, how she was one of the most loyal Death Eaters, how she was absurdly talented and incredibly dedicated. She'd taken Barty under her wing when he first joined the Death Eaters and had trained him to be the incredible wizard he became.

Barty had even complimented Ginny with her once, saying that she reminded him of his old mentor.

She'd heard a lot about Bellatrix from Barty, tales of fights and spells she'd used, how she had captured and killed the enemy, how the Dark Lord had trusted her more than other Death Eater.

Barty had told her a lot about Bellatrix, but he'd never told her that the woman was beautiful.

It was an entirely different type of beauty to what Ginny saw in Luna, but it was very much there. Something in Bellatrix's eyes just captured Ginny, kept her staring at the photo while muttering filled the Great Hall around her.

_'She tortured Neville's parents into insanity.'_

Shivering, she put the paper down, feeling very cold.

* * *

She snuck into the Common Room as quietly as possible, treading as softly as she could.

She'd waited until nearly one in the morning before putting a gown on over her pyjamas and heading down the stairs.

Over the past two weeks of term, she had met with Snape seven times. As the Dark Lord had ordered, they'd done nothing but practice Apparition, sneaking out to Hogsmeade in the dead of night under Disillusionment Charms.

She hadn't managed it yet but was sure that it wouldn't take much longer. She had definitely felt something the last few times that she tried, it just hadn't been more than a small itch in her whole body.

Even though the only thing that they were working on was Apparition, she had begged Snape to at least tell her some spells that she could practice in her spare time, without having to leave the castle.

After getting the Dark Lord's approval, he'd agreed.

She glanced down at the piece of paper again, checking the incantation and instructions.

 _"Sectumsempra,"_ it said,  _"No specific wand movement necessary."_

As she entered the Common Room, her breath caught in her throat. One of the armchairs was occupied.

She moved in silently, sidling along until she could see who it was.

When she did, she sighed, her plans for the night falling apart in her mind.

Harry was slouching in the armchair facing the fireplace, staring with a moody expression at the dying embers.

"More of the dreams?" She asked, stepping into his field of vision.

His reaction was enough to make up for her not being able to sneak out.

He shot bolt upright, a panicked expression flickering across his face as he raised his wand and almost fell out of the armchair.

When he saw it was her, he lowered his wand, settling back into his chair.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Just can't sleep. Thought I'd have a change of scenery."

She walked over to the armchair, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she reached him and briskly sat on his lap, leaning her back against his chest.

"Still the same one?"

"Yeah," he said. "The corridor with the glittering lights. I don't even know what it means, but it's always there. He's thinking about it, all the time."

"How's the Occlumency been going?"

Harry sighed, shaking his head briskly.

"It's terrible. I haven't managed it at all. Snape still gets to see my memories every time he tries, and afterwards, I'm always left feeling more...I don't know, more open, I guess. The scar hurts more, and I feel  _his_  emotions more then."

She shifted her weight, nearly vomiting when she felt his cock rubbing up against her thigh.

_'The Dark Lord said to do whatever you need to make him trust you. It can't be worse than Higgs was.'_

"That does sound horrific," she said softly, turning her head to face him. "But I'm sure it'll get better. You just need time and practice."

"I hope so, but-"

She shut him up with a kiss, pressing her body against his and pulling his head toward her.

She could feel him growing hard against her leg as he ran his hand through her hair, pulling her tightly to him.

She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that it was Luna she was kissing.

It didn't work, but it was enough to keep her from screaming.

"Trust me," she said, pulling away from him and settling back down with her head on his shoulder. "It'll get better. You'll see."

He didn't answer, instead just pulling her tightly to him.

She was just about to get up and return to bed when he finally spoke.

"Ginny, are we a couple?"

_'Whatever it takes.'_

"I think it's pretty obvious that we are," she said, giving him a flirtatious grin.

"So why are you so set on keeping it hidden?"

_'Because Luna would realize something's up. Because if it's public then I'll have to spend even more time with you than I already do.'_

"I told you," she said. "You know what Ron's like. He'll make a whole scene. It's just better to keep it a secret, for now."

He still looked a bit unhappy with it all. Groaning internally, she leaned forward again, letting her fingers trail along his crotch as she kissed him.

"How about this," she suggested when they separated. "Next Hogsmeade weekend, we'll go together. We can tell Ron and Hermione then. That way he won't be able to make a scene."

"Deal."

* * *

Slowly, her breath returned to normal, the panting gasps giving way to more usual inhales and exhales.

Beside her, Luna rolled over onto her back, beads of sweat glistening in the hollow of her neck.

Ginny watched as Luna's breasts rose and fell, her eyes slowly trailing down to the indentation between her girlfriend's legs.

She could still see the moisture drying on Luna's lips, the folds still quivering with the last tremors of the pleasure that had torn through her.

It was definitely better like this, with both of them actually naked.

It had even been good enough to make it worth going into Higgs' hideout again.

She'd faltered for a few seconds at the entrance, when she'd arrived with Luna in tow.

But with Luna by her side, she'd been able to make herself go inside.

It was different from how it had been when Higgs was alive. The House-elves had obviously been in to clean, as all the empty booze bottles and cigarette butts had been removed.

Having Luna with her had definitely made it far easier to actually enter.

She wondered how easy it would be when she finally brought Harry there.

She moved closer to Luna, clearing her mind and banishing the thoughts of Harry as she gently kissed Luna's cheek.

"That was amazing."

Luna just grunted non-committedly.

"Luna? What's wrong?"

Her puzzlement turned to black fear when she moved closer and noticed the tears swimming in Luna's brilliant eyes.

"Luna? What's wrong? Did it hurt, did-"

"It was wonderful," Luna said thickly. "It's not that. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," she said, sitting up and looking down with concern. "Tell me. Maybe I can help."

Luna sat up, her lower lip trembling and her throat working.

"There's something that you're not telling me."

"Luna-"

"Don't," she cried, her voice shrill. "I'm not stupid, and I'm not blind. You're different! There's something happening with you, and you pretend that there isn't, and I'm almost too frightened to ask!"

"What are you afraid of?" She asked gently.

Luna drew a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.

"Professor Flitwick asked me some questions at the end of last year," Luna said, "about you. He-I realized why he was asking. They were worried that with Crouch impersonating Moody and giving you those extra lessons, maybe he'd been trying to-to-to make you evil or something."

Flabbergasted, Ginny just shook her head, coherent thought vanishing in a cloud of panic.

"I thought that it was ridiculous. But there is something different about you. I can-I can see it in your eyes. There's something you're not telling me, and it frightens me!"

_'Obliviate her.'_

_'I can't, I can't! The Dark Lord said that I mustn't, Snape said I mustn't! I can't!'_

_'If you don't-'_

_'There's only another few weeks until Valentine's! Only a few more weeks of pretending! I can keep it up! I can!'_

"Luna, I-"

Luna reached out, tenderly placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Just promise me," she said, her voice full of a quiet strength that Ginny had never heard from her before. "That you're not hurting anyone. Promise me that I'm wrong. Please."

"I promise. I promise, Luna,"

_'Just another few weeks, that's all. Just another few weeks.'_

* * *

She kept her eyes focused on the hill a few hundred meters down the road, her brow furrowed in concentration so intense that beads of sweat began to form.

Gritting her teeth, she moved, spinning on the spot and forcing herself to Apparate.

For the first time, it worked.

She heard the tell-tale cracking sound as a tight tube squeezed around her, compressing her to nothing.

Almost the very instant it had started, it was over, with her completing her spin on the top of the hill.

A wild, triumphant laugh tore its way through her, her hands rising into the air without her even thinking about it.

_'I did it! I can do it, I can do it!'_

A moment later, she heard another loud crack as Snape appeared.

"I did it! I managed!"

"Well done," Snape said. "Now, let us see that you can repeat it."

* * *

_"My lord,"_ she wrote, her triumph still setting her blood aflame.  _"I managed to Apparate. And I repeated it at least five times."_

 _"Good,"_  Came the Dark Lord's reply.  _"Well done. And now, we can truly plan. The next time you meet with Severus, he will bring you to me, to ensure that you recognize where you will be travelling to. We will speak further then."_

* * *

"She is capable of Apparition," Severus said, "And the Dark Lord has decided on his plan."

"Do tell," Albus said, tapping a silver instrument that looked like a pair of tongs.

The tongs began to open and close, rings of colour expanding down their handles.

"I will take her to him on our next meeting so that if she needs to Apparate she will be able to travel there. She will be given a Portkey there. She will take Potter to Hogsmeade on the fourteenth, and she will take him from there to  _him._ "

"Valentine's Day," Albus said, shaking his head sadly. "Sometimes, I wonder about Voldemort's sense of irony."

"Albus, what-"

"I had an extremely interesting conversation with Arthur last night," Albus interrupted. "He and Molly are very concerned about Ginny. Enough that they have asked me to have her watched. As such, all of the Heads of House have now been asked to keep an eye on her. After the kidnapping attempt fails, you will find out that, at Arthur's request, I engaged Alastor to watch her while she is in Hogsmeade."

"The Dark Lord may...suspect that I am not being entirely honest."

"Then it is a good thing you are the best living Occlumens I know. You will inform him tonight that you and the other Heads have been asked to watch her."

"I will have to tell the girl as well."

"Yes. Try to make sure that it doesn't cause her to do anything surprising."

Severus nodded curtly.

"Does Voldemort hope to have her return to Hogwarts with her role in Harry's disappearance unknown?"

"I think he ideally would like it. But he is aware that suspicion will fall on her immediately. It depends on his whims at the time."

"Indeed. Now, the best situation would be if we can capture Miss Weasley. I do believe there still is a possibility of saving her, albeit a low chance. Nevertheless, our priority is Harry's protection. The Portkey must be disabled and Harry must be told before the trip to Hogsmeade."

"I wish you luck with that," Severus said. "Potter is as thick-headed as ever, unwilling to put the slightest effort into protecting his mind. He will probably assume that you are lying to him, trying to pull him away from his little girlfriend."

"I know," Albus said, "And that is why you will be using the Pensieve when you tell him."

"When I- Albus, I can't be the one to tell him. I can't."

"And neither can I. I saw Voldemort's presence in his mind, after the attack on Arthur. If I am the one to tell him, there is a far higher chance of Voldemort seeing then if it is you."

"He could still be watching if it is me."

"I know," Albus said gravely. "But Harry cannot be allowed to be taken. Even if it means that you will not be a suitable spy any longer."

"Is there nobody else? McGonagall-"

"Is not aware of Miss Weasley's loyalties, and will not be until everyone is. Severus, it is best if it is you. You will be able to tell if Voldemort is present in Harry's mind, and you will be able to show him your memories of our conversations and of yours with Miss Weasley."

"Had you told me when I was seventeen," Severus said as he rose, "that joining the Death Eaters would lead to me having a heart to heart conversation with James Potter's spawn to try and save his life, I…"

"What would you have done differently?"

Severus smiled, feeling the mass of self-loathing pressing against his forcibly maintained calm.

"Well, I would have killed myself there and then, I suppose."

* * *

She rubbed her arm with a scowl, pained tears drying on her cheeks.

Snape had healed the break, but it still hurt.

More than the physical pain, her uselessness bit at her.

After she'd proven that she could Apparate every time that she tried, Snape had started duelling with her again.

She appeared no closer to beating him than she had been before they switched to nothing but Apparition.

"There are signs of some improvement," he said, "but not enough. Focus on speeding up your movements and being less predictable. I will see you back here tomorrow night for our trip to the Dark Lord."

She hesitated as she stood, remaining just in front of him.

"Have the other Heads said anything?"

Sighing, Snape turned back to face her.

"No, although Flitwick was thinking about questioning the Lovegood girl again."

Her eyes closed of their own accord, deep regret filling her.

She'd been trying, as much as possible, to not think about what the revelation of her being a Death Eater would do to Luna.

All too easily could she imagine Luna sobbing in anguish as guilt wracked her.

_'Just another week and a half. Not much longer, just another week and a half. That's all.'_

"Luna suspects that something's up," Ginny said, opening her eyes. "But she doesn't know."

"Your relationship with her-"

"We're just friends," Ginny quickly said.

A sneer crossed Snape's face, there and gone in a flash.

"Ensure that she does not discover anything more than she already knows. Having to remove her memories would be a most tiresome chore."

* * *

The wind whipped at her robes, twisting them around and flipping her hair into her face.

"Pay close attention to where we are going."

She nodded to Snape, anticipation flipping her belly around again.

For the first time, she'd get to see him after his resurrection.

Harry had described his appearance, but she still couldn't stop thinking that she'd see something of Tom in his features.

"Are you going to take hold, or am I waiting for nothing?"

"Sorry," she muttered, reaching out and gripping his arm tightly.

"Pay attention."

With no more warning, Snape spun on his feet, pulling her after him through the bizarre sensation of Apparition.

They arrived almost the instant they had left, with Ginny stumbling and Snape standing resolutely still.

"Familiarise yourself with your surroundings."

She glanced around quickly, taking it in.

They were standing not far from the edge of a steep cliff in what looked to be the middle of nowhere. The salty tang and sound of waves heralded the nearby presence of the ocean, but looking around, Ginny could see nothing but a large house just in front of a small copse of birch trees.

"Where are we?"

"The Orkney Islands. Specifically, Mainland."

He glanced at her and sighed.

"An archipelago in the Northern Isles of Scotland."

"And that's our headquarters?" She asked, pointing towards the house.

"You could call it that. Come."

She followed him, the wet grass rubbing against her robes as they made their way to the house.

When they were about a hundred meters away Snape suddenly stopped walking, his hand shooting out and grabbing her shoulder.

"Wha-"

"You do not want to walk into the barrier," he said, letting go of her shoulder and pulling down his left sleeve. "Not without one of these."

He raised his arm, the tattoo glinting in the moonlight, and thrust it forward.

The air before her shimmered for a moment before returning to normal as a sense of heaviness that she hadn't even noticed vanished.

"What would happen if I had just kept walking?" She asked, following Snape again.

"You would have been held in place while everyone there was warned of your presence," he said, turning a dangerous smile on her. "And it would have been excruciatingly painful."

When they reached the front door, Snape tapped it with his wand before raising his arm and saying, in a clear, strident voice: "Severus Snape, accompanying Ginevra Weasley."

The door shuddered for a minute before smoothly opening, and with Snape just in front of her, Ginny entered.

The place was almost as large as the Great Hall, far bigger than it looked from the outside. An enormous crystal chandelier hung above a spiralling staircase, casting light on the emerald walls.

Beside the staircase was a large statue, one whose face she recognized from the Chamber of Secrets.

Before she had a chance to do more than gape, a patch of wall to her right slid silently open, revealing a large carpeted sitting room.

She did not need Snape's urging to move forward. She walked with her eyes glued to the figure on the throne-like chair, barely noticing the woman moving to the side of it.

He did look how Harry had described him; the skin on his face tight around his skull with his blood-red eyes boring into her very soul.

But Harry hadn't described the feeling of him, how he radiated power and might, how she felt more  _whole_ in his presence than she did even when she was with Luna.

She fell to her knees before his throne, trembling taking her as her heart sped up.

"My lord," she breathed, her words coming out in a heady rush.

The Dark Lord chuckled, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to rise.

"I am pleased with your progress," he said. "It appears that Barty did not exaggerate your abilities."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Bellatrix," he hissed, "the Portkey."

Bellatrix stepped forward, pulling Ginny's attention.

Azkaban had not been kind to her. Streaks of white lined her hair and deep hollows lay in her cheeks.

Still, a rough beauty shone from her as she stepped forward, clutching a small piece of quartz with blazing eyes.

"Bellatrix, Ginny," The Dark Lord said lazily. "I am certain you two will get along very well."

Smiling brightly, Bellatrix handed Ginny the stone, her fingers lingering on Ginny's for an instant.

"It will be activated only when you say: "I have Potter". Ensure that you have a tight grip on him."

"I will."

"And afterwards," he said, "you will be free. No more need to hide who you are, no more need to suffer the babbling of Muggle lovers. No more need to pretend. You will be free to show them all you are, free to revenge yourself on those who never truly cared for you."

"I can't wait," she whispered, "my lord. Thank you."

The Dark Lord's wand twitched, a piece of paper appearing and floating over to Snape.

"I require an Aging Potion, Severus," he said, "With these alterations. It would not be fitting for our newest recruit to be bound by the Trace."

"Of course, my lord," Snape said.

"You will make a fine addition to our fellowship," The Dark Lord said, favouring her with a smile that set her heart aflutter.

* * *

Luna reached over and plucked a blade of grass from Ginny's hair, pulling it down to tickle her under the chin with it.

"Maybe we could meet in Hogsmeade?"

Ginny shook her head, forcing the smile to stay on her face.

"Sorry," she said, "I don't think I'm going to be able to go. I've got too much homework to do. Unless I somehow manage to get two weeks of homework done in the next two days."

"That's a shame," Luna said, now chewing on the blade of grass. "I thought maybe we could get a butterbeer together. It wouldn't look like we're anything more than just friends."

"I think it'll have to be next time," she said regretfully, giving Luna a quick peck on the lips. "I'm sorry, Luna. I love you."

Blushing, Luna put her arm around Ginny's neck and pulled her close enough for their noses to touch.

"I love you too."

* * *

"You are certain," Albus said, gesturing at the small stone on his desk, "that this is what was given to her?"

"No," Severus said, "he must have given her another Portkey made from a piece of quartz. Yes, Albus. That is it."

Albus nodded, carefully handing the Portkey back to the house-elf beside his desk.

"Thank you, Toobey. If you would please return this, that will be all for now."

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore, sir." The elf squeaked, taking the stone and vanishing with a crack.

"Moody knows the entire situation?"

"Of course. As does Kingsley. And Aberforth will be watching from his pub. All that remains is for you to tell Harry."

"If either of them acts too soon," he warned, "it will be clear that they had prior knowledge."

"That will only be a problem if she escapes. Certainly, they will do everything in their power to make it seem like luck, but I will not risk Harry being captured."

"They need to stop her before she clears the Anti-Apparition barriers," Severus warned as he stood, "otherwise, Portkey or not, she will take him."

"I am aware, Severus. I am aware. Good luck with Harry."

Grabbing the Pensieve, Severus muttered: "I would almost rather the Dark Lord discovered everything."

* * *

She pulled her hand out of Harry's pants, and maintaining eye contact, licked his spunk off of her fingers.

"Wow," he whispered, eyes wide and glassy in the gloom.

They were in an empty classroom on the third floor, one whose chalkboard looked like it hadn't been used in years.

It had been difficult enough going to Higgs' hideaway with Luna, but the thought of taking Harry there was simply unbearable.

"Maybe tomorrow," she said, making her voice as husky as she could. "Before we meet Ron and Hermione, you could take me to that cave where you said Sirius hid last year. I'm sure it'll be better if we don't need to worry about people walking in…"

"Yeah," he said. "Wow, Ginny, that was incredible."

She smirked at him, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"I'm sure you've got pretty nimble fingers yourself," she said, "being a Seeker and all. Maybe tomorrow you can show me."

His eyes widened even more at that, his reddening cheeks seeming to glow.

"Uh, Ron's not coming to Hogsmeade tomorrow," he suddenly blurted out. "Angelina's got them training all day."

"Not much point, really," she said, "Dean's no replacement for you."

He glanced at his watch and yelped, jumping to his feet and hastily adjusting his underwear.

"Snape," he said, by way of explanation, "I've got Occlumency in five minutes."

He touched his lips to her cheek before running out, waving at her.

"Good luck!" She called.

_'You'll need it. Tomorrow, you'll have the Dark Lord using Legilimency on you.'_

* * *

Severus sighed, waiting for the boy to finish viewing his memories.

He had decided not to join Potter in the Pensieve, pleasant as seeing the horrified realization dawn upon him may have been.

Instead, he waited, watching as Potter's body shook with his head still within the rune-encrusted stone bowl.

This was going to be terrible, he knew. Potter would be furious and hurt, and he would have to comfort the brat.

It was at times like this that he really wished he were still a Death Eater in truth.

The Pensieve stopped swirling, a final image of Dumbledore appearing as the memories Severus had put in there ran their course.

He took a deep breath as Potter pulled his head from the Pensieve.

The boy's face was twisted in pained fury, his nostrils flaring and tears overflowing in his eyes.

A twinge of pity overshadowed the usual rage at seeing her eyes in Potter's face.

"Potter," he said, as gently as he could manage. "The girl-"

"That's not true," Potter interrupted, shaking a pale face, "that's not true!"

"Your parents would still have been alive," he snarled, "If they'd have been more sparing with their trust!"

"Ginny is not-not-not that! It's not true!"

He swallowed down his rising frustration, forcing his mind to stay empty and cool.

"I assure you, it is. The girl is-"

"Stop it! Why would you lie about this? What's wrong with you?"

The anger tried to take over him, Potter's face changing into that of his disgusting father.

"Listen to me," he said, somehow managing to keep the venom out of his voice. "You saw the memories-"

"You faked them! You're-you-stop it!"

Potter spun on his heels almost as if he were trying to Apparate and ran for the door, his hand outstretched before he even reached it.

His frustration beginning to bubble up, Severus cast a Locking Charm on it, pausing for a moment before adding a Charm that a simple Alohamora would not unlock.

Potter stood there for nearly a minute, his shoulders shaking as he tugged on the firmly locked door.

"You arrogant, hard-headed idiot!" He hissed, losing control for a moment, "Dumbledore and I have been trying to save your worthless life, but you have to know better, don't you?"

His hands clenched into tight fists, the boy turned back to Severus.

"Let me out. Let me out, let me-"

You need to hear this," Severus said, only the tears running down the boy's cheeks keeping him from screaming or insulting him again. "Because if you don't-"

"SHUT UP!" Potter suddenly roared, "LIAR!"

The brat's hand shot toward his pocket, but Severus had been expecting something like that for a while.

The Disarmer hit Potter cleanly in the chest, his wand flying to Severus' outstretched hand before it had even been drawn.

"I am trying to save your miserable life," he hissed, "Listen to me!"

"You're lying, you must be-it can't be true, it-"

"Think carefully before you call me a liar," Severus replied, "I promise you, I-"

"Liar," Potter said weakly, his face contorting like an animal's as the tears came more furiously. "You-you hate me, this is-this is Voldemort's plan, you're-you-"

"If I was truly carrying out the Dark Lord's plans, I would have used any of my dozens of opportunities to kidnap you and take you to him, where your fondest wish would be for a swift painless death. And I promise you, that would be a wish that you would never receive."

"It's not true-"

"Can you truly tell me that there has been nothing suspicious about her dealings with you? Has she not asked you to keep the details of your relationship secret? Even to someone as pea-brained as yourself, that must have seemed odd."

"She-"

Potter cut himself off, shaking his head wildly.

"It can't be true. It just-not Ginny. She's-she's a Weasley! She's Ron's sister!"

"The diary she received before her first year," he said quietly, fury at Lucius interrupting his anger at Potter for a moment, "had been enchanted to cause her to become obsessed with it. Obsessed with him. It made her feel...like she needed him. Like everything he was saying was true and right."

"But I destroyed it, it-"

"He had been possessing her," Severus interrupted. "The damage possession does can sometimes be permanent. And the Dark Lord was always known to be a cunning manipulator. He had almost a year to mould her to his wishes, all while his enchantments twisted her mind and those who could have helped her did nothing."

He watched carefully as Potter lowered his head for a few minutes, making snivelling noises and rubbing at his face.

"You cannot allow her to know that you know the truth," he said once the boy raised his head again, "But you must be on your guard."

Potter barked out a laugh, Lily's eyes red-rimmed and hollow in their sockets.

His heart gave a pang at the sight.

"So I just-pretend like everything's normal? That's all?"

"You have to. Because if she realizes that something is wrong, I have no idea what she will do."

Slowly, the boy nodded, an errant tear escaping down his cheek.

"During the daytime, there is no Apparition within the main areas of Hogsmeade. But once you get past the Hog's Head, Apparition is possible. She knows this. You cannot allow her to take you past there."

"Even-even with Moody and King-'

"It is safest to pretend like something has gone wrong and they are not there. That way, if something does go wrong, you will still be safe."

The boy nodded again, solemn determination colouring his features.

"You-Dumbledore, if I get the Occlumency working properly, he'll actually speak to me?"

"Yes."

"I-I still-it's just hard to believe- I just-"

He shook his head again, staring down at the floor for a second before lifting it.

"Can I-can I go now?"

Handing the boy his wand back, Severus nodded and waved his own wand at the door.

"You can tell nobody about this, you know that."

"I know."

"Well then. Good luck."

 _'And I sincerely hope,'_ Severus thought,  _'that you do not need to rely on luck.'_


	22. Fourth Year, Part Four

Year Four, Part Four

She woke up tingling with nervous excitement, energy thrumming through her as soon as she realized what day it was.

After all this time, it was finally here.

She hadn't slept much the night before, the anticipation of the day to come having kept her up until well into the night.

Still, she felt as awake as ever she had.

Dressing hurriedly, she checked and rechecked that she still had the Portkey at least five times before grinning at herself in the mirror and heading down to the Great Hall, barely able to keep from skipping.

Harry wasn't there.

She took her usual seat at the Gryffindor table with anxiety gnawing at her belly, the food dull and tasteless on her tongue.

_'It's ok, he doesn't know anything, he can't. He'll meet you at the main entrance just like you planned.'_

By the time she had finished eating and made her way to the main entrance, it felt like a bowling ball had been inserted into her stomach.

She scanned the line of students waiting to go into Hogsmeade nervously, her anxiety lessening slightly when she saw that Luna wasn't among them.

_'Where is he? He can't know, he can't!'_

She was just about to go back up to Gryffindor tower when Harry came walking down the stairs looking wan and exhausted.

"Sorry," he said when he reached her. "Didn't sleep well last night."

She stood on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against a pale cheek.

"Well," she said, "I'm sure Hogsmeade will cheer you up."

Taking his hand, they joined the queue, pausing when they got to the front and Filch marked their names off on his clipboard.

The pair of them drew more than a few glances, with one of the Slytherin girls from her year, Artemis Jones, hissing an insult that was luckily swallowed up by the wind.

The wind grew stronger as they walked, huge black clouds moving in and veiling the sun.

Harry seemed very withdrawn as they strolled along the winding road to the village, barely giving more than one-word responses to anything she said.

In her mind, she kept repeating the plan. How, once they were away from the main area of Hogsmeade and everyone's eyes, she would hug him tight and whisper the phrase.

She kept compulsively tapping the little stone in her pocket, its reassuring weight strengthening her.

They paused at the entrance to Hogsmeade, where Ginny adjusted her scarf and took his gloved hand again.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked, forcing concern into her tone. "You seem very distracted."

He gave a hollow laugh and squeezed her hand, smiling at her weakly.

"Yeah. Sorry, just had terrible dreams last night. Lots of them. Kept waking me up."

"Let's see if we can replace those thoughts with something better," she said, tugging him after her.

The streets of Hogsmeade were full of students, laughing as they wandered around, mostly in pairs.

 _'Just need to keep moving,'_ she thought with annoyance, as Harry stopped to greet someone else.

"You finally found someone to take you, Weasley," Pansy Parkinson shrieked as she and a group of her giggling friends passed them near Dervish and Bangs. "I'm surprised, I thought he was more interested in your brother!"

She was half-expecting Harry to respond, but he didn't, instead just frowned at the Slytherins until they were gone.

"Let's keep going," she said awkwardly, "shall we?"

Harry shook his head as if to clear it before saying: "Yeah. Want to go see what they're all looking at?"

He was pointing at Dervish and Bangs' glass storefront, where a smallish crowd had congregated and were apparently examining something.

_'Just go along. You can move on from there.'_

The crowd moved away to let her and Harry approach, revealing a large poster on the wall.

A picture of Bellatrix's face leered out at her from it, flanked on both sides by other Death Eaters.

The writing below the pictures announced a thousand galleon reward for information leading to the capture of any of the convicts.

 _'I wonder if the reward will be so high for me.'_ She thought with a shiver.

A peal of thunder tore through the air, making a girl to Ginny's right let out a startled shriek.

"It's going to pour soon," Harry said with a glance at the sky, "We should try and get inside somewhere."

_'No. No. No. Need to get further away.'_

"Maybe," she whispered, "we could take shelter in that cave. It could be really cool."

"I guess. Don't you want to get something to drink and eat first?"

"Not really…"

_'Just listen to me!'_

The nervous tension returned, her intestines becoming a swarm of snakes twisting around inside of her.

Something was wrong, she was sure of it. Harry looked even more withdrawn than when they'd first met, and he was staring at the poster of the wanted Death Eaters with a very strange expression.

 _'He doesn't know,'_ she told herself sternly, inhaling and forcing her worries to disappear.  _'He can't know. I'm sure the Dark Lord was thinking about catching him, he's probably unnerved from the nightmares. He doesn't know. Just get him to go with you.'_

"I'd like to," Harry said, "If you don't mind. Didn't make it to breakfast this morning. Maybe we could go to the Three Broomsticks?"

_'Just need to get him away from the crowds, then I can make it work.'_

"It's always packed there. How about the Hog's Head?"

Her nerves strangled her for a long moment while Harry stood there, looking uncertain.

Finally, he nodded.

"Ok."

By the time they reached the Hog's Head, rain had begun to fall in large, splattering drops.

The road was quite empty, with most of the people around having hidden away from the storm. There still were a few Hogsmeaders and students braving the rain, though. Enough of them that Ginny wanted to move further away.

_'It'll just get worse. I have to get him to move forward now, otherwise he'll want to stay in the Hog's Head.'_

"How about we just head to the cave now?" She suggested. "And come past the Hog's Head on the way back?"

"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head, his glasses skidding down the bridge of his nose and nearly falling off. "I'm really hungry, Ginny. And this rain is getting stronger."

"I-I know the Contraception Charm…"

He wavered for a minute, desire warring with some unknown emotion in his face.

_'He knows. Somehow, he knows, or he suspects. I'll have to do this carefully. Body-Bind, then Locomotor. Nobody will realize unless they're watching closely. And if they are, I've got the Portkey.'_

She shrugged, quickly moving in close and hugging him tight, adjusting her body so that it wouldn't be clear to someone behind her exactly what she was doing.

She swiftly drew her wand as she moved and pressed it against him, whispering: "Petrificus Totalus."

His body became stiff as a board against her, his arms going hard and taut.

"Locom-"

Her incantation was cut out by a furious yell from behind her.

* * *

Alastor followed Potter and the girl safely under the cover of his invisibility cloak, the Supersensory Charm allowing him to hear every word of the conversation.

Though he looked around, he kept his magical eye focused on the pair, gripping his wand tighter every time the girl tapped her pocket.

Of the few people still on the road, only one of them was coming this way.

He watched the oncoming girl for a minute, just to ensure that she wasn't an unknown partner before dismissing her.

"I-I know the Contraception Charm."

He spun back around to watch the couple, raising his wand and hoping that Potter had more than a lick of sense.

Far too often, Alastor knew, young wizards thought with the wrong head.

But Potter seemed to be doing alright, inasmuch as the desire on his face was clearly visible.

The girl tensed up, barely noticeable even to his magical eye.

_'Fuck.'_

She hugged Potter, and Alastor began to cast a spell when he saw the boy's body go stiff.

Alarm bells sounded in his mind, and he twisted out of the way of the oncoming presence the Supersensory Charm had warned him of.

The girl who had been coming up the road was running right past him, shouting and waving her wand wildly.

* * *

The sudden cry shocked Ginny badly, making her let go of Harry as she instinctively spun to face the source of it.

She realized what she had done almost immediately and grabbed Harry roughly around the waist, holding him up as she finished turning around.

When she did, it was to see Luna standing in the middle of the road, her wand held in front of her like a javelin and tears running furiously down her face.

Utterly speechless, Ginny just stared, the Portkey forgotten in her surprise.

"You lied to me," Luna said in a thick, horrified voice, "you said you weren't coming. I thought it was you there, I hoped I was wrong, but I was right. I was right. And Harry doesn't look very happy to be with you. I was right. You promised, you promised and you lied!"

"Luna, I-"

"Let him go," Luna pleaded, "We can-"

Hot rage flashed through her, her blood boiling in an instant.

Everything seemed to shake around her, red coating her vision.

"HOW DARE YOU!" She shrieked, "I NEED TO DO THIS! THE DARK LORD WANTS-"

"STUPEFY!' Luna cried.

She let go of Harry, barely hearing him drop to the ground as she waved her wand and yelled: "PROTEGO!"

She stared as the red light flashed against her shield, barely noticing how the Stunning Spell flew back past Luna before veering away, not noticing as a figure appeared from thin air a few meters behind Luna.

She could think of nothing but the furious, bitter taste of betrayal, could feel nothing but pained hatred.

"HELP!" Luna shouted, leaping nimbly out of Ginny's Stunner's path. "SOMEBODY, HELP!"

A bright yellow curse came flying over Luna's shoulder, making Ginny, who had tried to move towards Harry, jump backwards, screeching and waving her wand all the while.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! EXPULSO!"

"MOVE, GIRL!"

Ginny blinked, barely believing her eyes and ears as Mad-Eye Moody came rushing forward, knocking Luna out of the way and bringing his wand down in a slashing motion, sending her curse careening into the ground where a muddy crater erupted.

From the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the door to the Hog's Head fly open and the burly innkeeper come rushing out, brandishing his wand.

"DON'T HURT HER," Luna screamed, jumping back to her feet and grabbing Moody's arm, pulling him off balance for a second. "SHE NEEDS HELP, DON'T HURT HER!"

And suddenly, Ginny understood how it had all gone wrong, why Moody was there.

Flitwick must have questioned Luna again. He must have questioned her, and Luna must have told him about her suspicions.

Whatever it was Luna had said, it must have been enough for Dumbledore to have one of his Order tail Ginny and make sure that she didn't hurt anyone.

Everything had gone wrong, and it was all Luna's fault.

Luna who she had felt comfortable with, who had made her feel safe and happy.

Luna who she had loved.

Everything except her and Luna seemed to momentarily vanish in a wave of pure hatred.

She waved her wand, not even noticing the spell crashing into her and sending a jolting numbness down her left arm.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Luna's eyes widened, the eerie green light of the Killing Curse lighting her face up the instant before it crashed into her chest.

The wind seemed to stop, the rain faltering and Moody and the innkeeper stilling as the light faded from Luna's eyes, leaving them blank and empty.

Just for a moment, nothing existed except the sudden wax-like sheen forming on Luna's face.

Then Luna fell forward, and the fight returned along with a strange hot pain in her left arm.

"FINITE INCANTATEM!"

Moody growled out an incantation, jerking his wand toward her and sending a curse flying right at her.

Her tears were hot against her cheeks as she cast a quick Protego, terror filling her mind when she heard Harry coughing.

_'They removed the Body-Bind, I need to get him now!'_

Moody's spell crashed straight through her shield, hitting her in the chest and knocking her to the floor just as, from the direction of the pub, a Stunner shot through the space where she had been standing a moment before.

Spots danced before her eyes as she tried to breathe, fighting to take in air.

Dimly, she noticed Harry sitting up.

Summoning reverses of strength she didn't know she had, Ginny launched herself into a dive, oxygen flooding her as her lungs began to work again.

She landed roughly, crushing Harry between her and the ground.

A spell smashed into the earth a few meters away from them, mud splashing all over her face.

Her left arm was screaming in pain with every movement, but she forced it to grip Harry's arm as she waved her wand in Moody's direction and shouted: "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

As soon as the curse had left her wand, she rammed her hand against the stone in her pocket and wheezed: "I have P-"

Something with the force of a locomotive hit her, sending her flying off of Harry and bouncing along the ground until she came to a final stop a good fifty meters down the road, hundreds of small cuts and scrapes appearing as she crashed into the road over and over.

A horrible wetness began to soak into her robes. She glanced down for an instant and saw blood pouring out of a thick, deep gash just above her belly, where one of the cuts was decidedly not minor.

Another Stunner came, missing her by a fraction of an inch.

She jumped to her feet, screeching wordlessly in impotent fury.

Something gave a crack in her right knee as she stood and she almost fell with horrible pain exploding in her leg.

Blood poured into her eyes from a cut on her forehead as everything began to spin furiously around her, making it near impossible for her to see, but what she could see was more than enough.

The innkeeper had made it over to Harry and was helping him to his feet, and Moody was limping forward, his wand flashing in her direction.

She managed to twist out of the way of his curse, but her knee gave in, sending her sprawling onto the ground.

"SURRENDER," Moody yelled, shooting another curse toward her. "IT'S OVER, JUST SURRENDER!"

She couldn't get out of the way, and felt a terrible agony as at least one of her ribs broke.

The blood dripping down her face mingled with frustrated tears as she pushed herself back up, her leg trembling beneath her.

The innkeeper was standing in front of Harry, a spell flying from his wand right toward her.

"AVADA KEDAVRA! EXPULSO! SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Every one of her spells went wild, none of them even coming close to any of her targets.

She could dimly make out other figures running down the road with wands drawn.

Another curse hit her, her legs and arms beginning to jerk uncontrollably as a Disarmer flew right past her head.

_'You need to go, get out of here! If they catch you you'll be of no use to him! You failed, but you can make up for it! Go!'_

"I have Potter," she wept, the cold acid of failure seeping into her as she expected to feel the Portkey tug at her navel.

But the Portkey did not work.

"I have Potter! I have Potter!"

She managed to twist, flipping onto her stomach with spells flying over her.

_'It's not working. It's not working.'_

Her limbs were shaking almost too badly to function, but she pushed herself to her feet, waving her wand behind her and shrieking: "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Then she spun, her legs trying to throw her to the floor, trying as much as she could to focus on the land outside the Dark Lord's house before throwing herself into Apparition.

The last thing she saw before being pulled away was the rain falling onto Luna's corpse.

* * *

Her Apparition dropped her roughly onto the ground just in front of where Snape had said the barrier was, every part of body shrieking in protest as she landed.

Pain blocked out everything for a moment, a thick blackness swirling in front of her eyes and a rushing noise sounding in her ears.

Terrible agony shot from her right arm, forcing a scream to erupt from her throat.

She shook the blood and tears from her eyes, looking down at her arm.

A patch of flesh had been neatly torn away, the bone visible for a moment in an empty hole above her forearm before it filled with dark blood.

 _'I've gone and Splinched myself,'_ she thought, a bizarre urge to laugh shaking her even as she continued to scream hysterically.

As if from somewhere far away, she heard voices.

It was suddenly too much to keep sitting up. She fell onto her back, her legs and arms still shaking, the sodden leaves a pillow below her head.

Someone was standing above her. She blinked furiously, shaking her head again.

The tall shape of the Dark Lord swam into clarity, his lipless mouth twisted in rage.

Behind him, blurry forms stood, just indistinct bodies in the gloom of her fading sight.

"What happened?" The Dark Lord asked, his voice cracking like a whip.

She began to blubber, spitting out disconnected words along with her tears.

"Luna she was-Moody was there, and Harry- Luna told Flitwick, it must have-Killed her-I-"

"YOU HAVE FAILED ME!" The Dark Lord shrieked, his wand flashing, "CRUCIO!"

She was screaming, the agony consuming her, making all the hurt she had suffered until then nothing but a scratch in comparison.

Her bones were aflame, her every nerve crying out for release.

The curse ended and she rose into the air, slamming back down onto the ground with a horrific click sounding from her back.

The Dark Lord shrieked wordlessly, waving his wand and making her rise and crash down again.

Another Cruciatus hit her, making her roll around on the muddy ground, her tormented screams mingling with half-shouted pleas for it to end, for her to just die and for it to end.

An eternity of agony passed, and as suddenly as it had started, it was finished.

She rose into the air again, this time in a standing position, and flew backwards until she crashed into something solid behind her.

Her head lolled around, unconsciousness trying to claim her while the Dark Lord approached.

He stepped before her with a snarl, his long fingers biting into her skin as he gripped her chin and raised it, forcing her to meet his burning gaze.

Then he dived into her mind, her memories of the entire Hogsmeade trip playing over again.

She was sobbing by the time he released her face.

He waved his wand with a growl, removing whatever force had been holding her up.

Twitching and shaking, she fell to the ground, everything around her fading away.

"Bellatrix," she heard the Dark Lord say, "Take her inside and heal her. The rest of you, leave me."

The darkness swallowed her.

* * *

A feeling like a static shock ran through her an instant before an ice-cold blanket forced its way around her, freezing as the Black Lake in midwinter.

She turned over, her eyes still closed, moaning quietly.

"Wake up!"

Another shock came, much stronger than the one before, her arms jerking at it.

Pain suffused her as sleep was torn away, almost every inch of her body blazing in agony.

Her back was the worst, but her arms and legs felt like they had been run over by a train.

"Wake up! The Dark Lord wants to see you!"

She groaned again, slowly opening her eyes.

She was lying on a bed in a room with dark grey walls. A large table was placed below the window, covered in bottles and jars of potions and paste.

Bellatrix stood above her, putting her wand away with an expression somewhere in between a scowl and a proud smile.

The blackness formed at the edges of her vision, trying to pull her under even as memories flooded her.

In her mind, Ginny saw Luna die again. She saw herself running away like a coward while Harry escaped, saw and felt the Dark Lord's fury once more.

She shivered, forcing her eyes to stay open.

"How-"

A coughing fit seized her when she tried to speak, her ribs aching as she bent double.

When it passed, she tried again.

"How long has it been?"

"Only a few hours," Bellatrix replied flippantly, "long enough to make sure that you wouldn't die. Put this on, he'll be here any minute."

Ginny fumbled the plain black robe that Bellatrix threw at her; it fell to the floor, making a thick clump on the carpet.

When Bellatrix made no move to pick it up, Ginny struggled out of the bed.

It was only when she pushed the covers off herself that she realized she was naked.

Looking down at herself, she gasped.

Her chest was a mass of bruises, blue-ish purple and dark red. They looked weeks old, true, but it still was a startling sight. A huge scar ran through them, thick and pale.

"Don't worry," Bellatrix suddenly said, "If he lets you live, we'll have you back to your pretty little self before you know it."

Ginny ignored her, a thread of fear running through her fuzzy mind as she forced her aching body into the robes.

By the time she finished, a sweaty sheen lined her forehead and she fell back into the bed, body trembling with the effort simply getting dressed had taken.

Barely a minute later, the door swung open and the Dark Lord strode in, a huge snake slithering around his feet.

She didn't have time to even say anything before he was standing right next to her, gripping her face and forcing her eyes to meet his.

And again, as had happened after she'd arrived a few hours previously, he viewed her memories.

Unlike the last time, however, he started with her last meeting with Harry before Hogsmeade.

She watched along with him, making no attempt to fight as, in her memory, Harry kissed her cheek before running off to meet with Snape.

Suddenly, the memory paused, with Harry's face filling her mind.

It seemed to grow for an indeterminate amount of time, before she felt a tugging on her thoughts and another memory appeared.

Harry was walking down the stairs to her, looking very out of things.

Again, the memory stopped, and again, Harry's face seemed to grow.

Looking at it closer, she could see what appeared to be nervousness.

The memory carried on.

She didn't know how long she stayed there for, with the Dark Lord carefully going through her recollection. He would stop at certain points, making something she had seen for an instant grow large.

She saw plenty that she hadn't consciously noticed when she had been in the moment, or even when he had used Legilimency on her earlier.

She saw how Harry seemed nervous, how he kept glancing behind him, how his hand often hovered above his wand. She saw how the innkeeper from the Hog's Head had been standing at his window, staring at them as they had walked up the road.

She saw how Moody had appeared from nowhere, and how, just after she'd killed Luna and tried to take Harry again, Kingsley had joined the grizzled old Auror.

And she saw herself screaming out the passcode while the Portkey did not work.

Then, the memories stopped, and the pain from around her body registered as she realized that she was staring at the Dark Lord.

"They knew," he snarled. "They knew."

"I-I thought L-Luna-"

His wand twitched, and the quartz stone which had been a Portkey shot forward, hovering just before him.

His hand moved from her face, moving to the portkey and stroking it.

"This was a Portkey when I gave it to you. I charmed it myself. Those charms were removed. None but Dumbledore could have done this. They knew of the Portkey, and they knew of the plan."

A fury even worse than that he had shown to her after her failure flashed across his face, the snake at his feet raising its head and hissing.

"It appears," he said, his whisper a soft knife, "that you were correct about Severus, Bellatrix."

He turned away from Ginny, robes billowing out behind him.

"It was not entirely your fault," he said. "Rest. Bellatrix, I want her in full health in time for the execution."

_'Execution? Snape's a traitor? But-'_

"When will that be, my lord?" Bellatrix asked, sounding excited.

_'If it was Snape, it can't have been Luna. It wasn't Luna. I killed her, and it wasn't even her who did it. I killed her for nothing.'_

"When I have torn every last bit of knowledge he possesses from his worthless, traitorous mind."

With that, he was gone, the snake's hissing echoing down the corridor.

"Well," Bellatrix said, suddenly looking jubilant. "This is lovely."

She walked over to Ginny, grabbing a smoking goblet from the table as she passed it.

"We'll get you all better," she purred. "I'm quite glad that you're not as useless as I worried."

She pushed Ginny down onto the bed, forcing her to lie on her back.

"Drink. When next you wake, everything will be much better."

_'I failed. Everyone knows, and I killed Luna, and it was all for nothing.'_

She hadn't even finished the potion before sleep claimed her once more.

* * *

She woke up gently, her mind slowly beginning to work.

"Open your eyes," a voice said, "It will hurt at first, but you must do it."

That voice stirred something, a fraction of an ounce of recognition swirling within her.

_'Where am I? What-'_

She heard a sigh, followed by a muttered: "I loathe healing," before someone walked over to her and put their hand on her shoulder.

"Come on," the voice said, now tinged with impatience.

 _'That's Bellatrix,'_ her mind whispered.  _'I'm in our headquarters.'_

Everything came back to her, tears prickling against her closed eyelids when she remembered what she had done, how she had killed Luna for nothing.

How she had failed.

A loud, agonized scream was heard, something that sounded more like a hamstrung horse than a human.

Ginny's eyes shot open, the sudden light burning against them and making her instinctively close them again.

"No, no. Open them, you'll get used to it."

She cracked her eyelids an inch as another scream sounded.

Drop by drop, the harsh brightness vanished, leaving only a few spots dancing before her.

Bellatrix was standing right next to her, smiling beatifically and nodding encouragingly.

"That's it. Keep them open."

She was lying in the same bed as when last she awoke. The sun shone through a window, bathing the room in a golden glow.

Under the covers, she was naked again, but her body seemed pain-free.

Ginny tried to speak but her voice came out in a soft croak.

"Here," Bellatrix said, passing her a goblet. "Drink."

The older woman chuckled at the sound of another scream when Ginny was half-way through the water, her smile growing.

"Was that Snape?" Ginny asked, her voice still hoarse, but audible.

"Oh, yes. He's been screaming like that for the past few days. Our Lord's not very happy with him, not at all."

She laughed again, clearly mirthful.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so furious," she confided, pushing Ginny slightly and sitting on the bed. "Maybe when Regulus vanished, but not since then."

"Snape-he told Dumbledore, then?"

Bellatrix nodded, jet-black eyes focusing intently on Ginny.

"When he came in, he was still trying to pretend that it was all a coincidence. Dumbledore had arranged Moody to come without telling him, he said. He kept it up for a while, too. But even for an Occlumens like him, there are ways to bring out the truth."

She adopted a sing-song tone and continued. "Bones can split and skin will tear, faces ripped and organs bare. Little Krup, little Krup, let me in."

"How long has it been?" Ginny asked, sitting up against the wall, heedless of the covers falling and revealing her naked chest.

She could feel no need for modesty or shame in front of this woman, this woman who had been there when the Dark Lord had tortured her and had apparently nursed her back to health.

She did almost regret her decision when Bellatrix glanced at her breasts, her eyebrows rising and her smile growing even more, looking like it would tear her face in two.

"Five days. Does anything hurt?"

Ginny concentrated for a minute, checking herself, before shaking her head.

"Good. I'm not a healer. I just know how the body works better than anyone else here. Except for our lord, of course. You'll still have a scar on your belly, it must have been a curse. But you don't mind scars, do you?"

Bellatrix's eyes glinted with shrewd amusement as she moved forward, her hand stretched out.

Ginny shivered as those fingers ran along the scars on her tits, just for an instant, before coming to rest on the scars on her arm.

"You like hurting yourself?" Bellatrix asked, sounding nothing but curious.

"I-I needed it."

"Did you really? Why?"

Ginny just shook her head, her heart pounding. She couldn't explain what it was like, not to this woman whose family had supported her when she joined the Dark Lord.

"Your mother was a Prewett, wasn't she? Molly?"

Ginny nodded, her stomach clenching up at the thought of her family.

"You look like she did, back when we were in Hogwarts." Bellatrix said, patting Ginny's hand, "Loathsome, prudish bitch that she was. How did  _her_ child end up with us?"

Ginny opened her mouth to say that it was a very long story and that she was tired, but instead, she found herself telling Bellatrix about the diary.

The words tumbled out, something in Bellatrix's eyes just letting her speak, letting her speak and feel comfortable.

She marvelled at what she was doing but did not stop.

Those beautiful eyes widened as Ginny went on, the serious expression that formed on Bellatrix's face broken by flashes of smiles when Snape's screams interrupted Ginny.

When Ginny told her, her voice choked, about Higgs, Bellatrix hugged her tightly.

And when Ginny told her how she had killed him, Bellatrix laughed and clapped.

Her voice grew stronger as she described how Barty had discovered her, a reverent note entering as she told of her first meeting with the Dark Lord.

She spoke for hours with no pause beside Snape's screams, talking about her training with Barty and how she had loved Luna, how she decided to serve the Dark Lord whatever it took, even though it forced her to use the knife, even though it made her sometimes feel like the internal struggle was going to rip her in two.

After describing how Barty had his soul eaten, her voice grew hoarse again, and Bellatrix wordlessly refilled the water.

She cried, talking about how it had been with Luna, how she had felt almost normal.

The sun was just beginning to set when she finally finished, tears dripping from her chin and soaking into the top of her covers.

Bellatrix laughed softly, hugging her again.

"Brilliant, beautiful baby," she whispered, "You're home now. This is where you're meant to be. Here, with us."

Her head dropped onto Bellatrix's shoulder, still sobbing.

"She tried to stop you doing what you had to," Bellatrix said soothingly, patting her back gently, "It was her own fault. You did the right thing."

"It was for nothing," she wept, "I didn't even get him! It was for nothing!"

"Nonsense. She tried to stop you! You would have been sent to Azkaban, and you would have stayed there until you died!"

A shiver ran through Bellatrix, a terrified scowl twisting her face.

"You were protecting yourself, and you did the right thing!"

Ginny shook her head.

"Everyone knows. Everyone knows, for nothing. I failed."

"From what you said," Bellatrix said, "You know Potter as well as anyone. Think of something to give to the Dark Lord, something that we can use against him."

The terrible feeling still stayed, a voice in the back of her mind whispering that she was a useless failure.

Gently, Bellatrix began to stroke her scalp as she shook with her sobs, murmuring compassionately.

How long she stayed like that, Ginny didn't know. All that she was certain of was that when the tears had dried, full night had fallen outside.

Strangely enough, she felt good, even with hiccupping tears still bursting from her. She felt, in fact, better than she had since she had killed Higgs, maybe even since Harry had killed Tom and ruined everything.

It was almost as if a poison had been drawn from her, like she had cried away all of her pain.

She yawned, suddenly exhausted.

"Sleep," Bellatrix said as she stood, "And think about what I said. I'll be back tomorrow."

* * *

She followed Bellatrix into the largest sitting room the house had to offer, still marvelling over the beauty of it.

Over the past three days, her energy and health had slowly returned. Her legs still felt slightly weak when she walked, but it was a far cry from the first time she had tried, two days previously.

Most of that time had been spent in her bed, either sleeping, talking with Bellatrix, reading the newspapers and books she had been given, or thinking about what she could offer the Dark Lord with regards to Harry Potter.

The rest of her waking hours were spent walking, trying to force her body to just function.

It was definitely improving in leaps and bounds. The healing had done most of it, but all that was left was giving her body time to adjust.

For now, there were more important things to worry about.

A few of the Death Eaters in the room gave her curious glances as she entered just behind Bellatrix, but their attentions were quickly claimed by the spectacle just in front of the fireplace.

The Dark Lord was standing there, his snake curled around his feet. Hanging upside down in mid-air just in front of him was the mangled form of Severus Snape.

Snape was swinging around lazily as if he were a balloon in the wind; as Ginny stood near the entranced, he came to face her for an instant and she gasped.

His face had been brutally savaged, with barely an inch of it left untouched. His left eye was gone, looking like it had been scooped out of the socket, which, she noticed, had been burned.

The other eye looked oddly deflated.

The rest of his face was covered in bruises, cuts, and burns, with patches of skin simply missing.

His lips looked like they had been torn off, and half of his nose had been sliced away.

The rest of his body had fared no better, with the exception of the tattoo on his left arm.

There, the skin and flesh was untouched.

For a while, no-one said a word, as Snape spun through the air.

Then the Dark Lord waved his wand, and a spotlight seemed to shine on Snape, throwing him into sharp relief.

With the new light on him, Ginny could see how his limbs were twisted into strange shapes, his fingers and toes lying in odd, uncomfortable looking positions.

"Mark well the price of betrayal," the Dark Lord suddenly said, "Not content with merely leaving our fellowship, a fellowship for life, Severus deemed it appropriate to act as a spy for Dumbledore as his ilk. It is due to his actions, and his alone, that our newest sister did not succeed in bringing me Harry Potter."

The light the Dark Lord had conjured up shone in her, making everyone turn and stare.

In the silence, Ginny distinctly heard someone whisper: "That's a Weasley!"

"Indeed, Yaxley," the Dark Lord replied, cold amusement in his voice. "Clearly, you do not read the Daily Prophet. Dear Ginny has a price on her head almost as high as our newly-released family, and is suspected of being in contact with them, perhaps even with that notorious criminal Sirius Black."

Jeering laughter filled the room for a moment, silence falling the instant the Dark Lord spoke again and all eyes returned to him.

"Ginny is one of us, and will be Marked so as soon as she has proven her worth. She would have already been Marked, were it not for Severus' sabotage."

The laughter vanished from his tone at Snape's name, a sibilant hiss entering in its place.

"Tell us, Severus. Why did you betray me?"

Snape slowly revolved until he was facing the crowd before his spinning stopped.

"Tell us, Severus. Now."

Snape opened his mouth, and Ginny saw that his teeth had been shattered, the gums themselves sliced open.

A strange, hacking noise left him, and Ginny realized with a shock that he was laughing.

_'It must have driven him mad.'_

"You killed her," Snape said, his voice mushy but understandable. "You killed her."

"See the results of Dumbledore's so-called most powerful magic," the Dark Lord cried, stretching his arms wide. "See the results of his famous love, the love of a half-blood for a Mudblood!"

He turned back to Snape.

"I killed a Mudblood who detested you, who chose another man in your stead. I killed an intruder in our world, one who at least had the good sense to find you disgusting. You could have been great, Severus. But look at you. You are pathetic."

The Dark Lord's wand flashed, and the tattoo on Snape's arm began to writhe.

After a moment, the flesh beneath it tore off his arm in a bloody torrent. It hovered in the air for an instant before flying into the fireplace, where the flames rose to greet it.

"You do not deserve to die as one of us," the Dark Lord whispered, before slashing his wand again.

A jet of emerald light shot from it, hitting Snape in the chest and releasing whatever spell had been holding him up, causing him to drop to the floor with a crash.

As if it had been a pre-arranged signal, the great snake at the Dark Lord's feet rose, its jaws distending before it dived forward.

"Thus will end all traitors. Ensure that you are not among them."

* * *

She was still kneeling, her hair making a red veil in front of her face.

Somewhere behind her, Bellatrix was standing. She'd told Bellatrix her idea before coming to propose it to the Dark Lord, and the woman had been enthralled.

"If-if Lucius Malfoy, or someone else in the Ministry gets word to Umbridge about Potter's defence group," she said, "She can catch them. Even if it doesn't get him expelled, that was the only thing he really liked about Hogwarts now."

"Continue."

"And He-I told you, my lord, he is afraid that people will die because of him. He already blames himself for Diggory's death. If-if the people close to him are killed-"

"Who would you suggest?" The Dark Lord asked.

_'It's their own fault. They chose the wrong side, it's their own fault.'_

"His friends. The Mudblood and-and-and my brother. Ron. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. If he knows that they're dying because of him, he'll do anything to make it stop. Anything. Even-he'd probably even surrender himself."

"Your brother and the Mudblood are at Hogwarts. Black is behind the Fidelius, and Lupin is usually with him."

"I-I know, my lord. But if-if the families of his friends were targeted-"

"Your family is on the highest guard, waiting for you to strike. Severus knew that much. The Mudblood's parents, perhaps."

The Dark Lord stroked his chin, looking thoughtful.

She forced herself to speak, willed the tears away.

"My brother P-Percy. He isn't living at home. He's not in touch with the rest of the family. He disowned them, he believes the Ministry. And my brother Ch-Charlie. He lived in Romania. My mother, she said that he's doing work for the Order there, trying to recruit foreigners. We could-we could k-kill them easily, my lord."

She shook, images of Percy and Charlie flashing through her mind.

_'It's their own fault. It's their own fault, and I need to do this.'_

"Yes. That will work well. You will do it."

He smiled, rising from his throne and beckoning for her to stand as well.

Trembling, she did, nerves and worry twisting her belly.

"The ageing potion will be complete in another two days, and I shall remove the Trace from you then. And then you will begin your task. And once your brothers and the Mudblood's parents are dead, I will Mark you as one of us."


	23. Interlude VI

Interlude VI

"Why couldn't you have told us earlier?" Molly asked desperately. "We could-"

She cut herself off with a sob, beginning to shake again.

Albus felt tears prickle in his own eyes as Arthur comforted his distraught wife.

In a way, Albus knew that this meeting was far more painful than his upcoming conversation with Xenophilius would be.

This was partially due to the more personal relationship he had with the Weasleys, but that was not all of it. Not all of it by half.

"It wouldn't have helped," Arthur said suddenly, his voice as thick and choked as his wife's. "We've been suspecting something like this for a while, dear. We just refused to admit how bad it could be."

Molly fluttered against Arthur's arms like a leaf in the wind, every one of her weeping cries cutting deep into Albus' heart.

Much of this, he knew, was his fault. Hogwarts was meant to be a safe haven for students, a place where they would suffer none of the ills that unfortunately awaited many of them in their adulthood.

Hogwarts was meant to be warm, comfortable, and loving; a place for children to be nurtured, to grow and learn and discover who they were and who they wanted to be.

It had been none of those things for the Weasley's only daughter.

First the Diary incident, where Ginny had been possessed by what Albus now knew to be a shard of Voldemort's soul.

For nearly an entire year, the girl had been manipulated by one of the darkest and most depraved pieces of magic Albus could think of.

If that had been all, Albus still would have felt a failure.

But that wasn't all.

It had happened before, cases of sexual assault at Hogwarts. As much as he wished it were not so, it would probably happen again in the future.

There was a very low rate of occurrence, true, but even a case every five years was unacceptable

And here was a situation worse than any that had occurred since he had become headmaster, at least as far as he knew.

Here was a girl who had felt that she had no-one to confide in, no-one to tell that she required help.

Here was a girl who had felt that she had no recourse but to use dark magic to commit murder, in order to rescue herself from a terrible situation.

After that, Crouch had stepped in, another failure to be laid at Albus' feet.

Yes, the girl had chosen her path, all the way along she had been given opportunities to change the direction of her life.

But Albus should have done more. As headmaster, it was his duty to ensure that the students were safe and protected and given room to grow in a healthy environment.

And he had failed.

"I understand your reasoning," Molly said, clearly making an incredible effort to speak evenly. "But we still deserved to know. We're her-her parents! We deserved to be told, you should have-"

Again, Molly's anguish rose, choking and interrupting her.

"I truly am sorry," Albus said, "I wish that I could have done something different. I wish that there had been more options available to me."

"You should have told us!" She cried, "How could you have kept this from us? We-Ginny-she-"

Albus shook his head sadly as another throe silenced her.

Now was not the time for him to explain himself or to attempt reason. That time would come, he knew, but it was not the present. Now was the time for him to simply be there for the people he had failed so badly, as he had failed so many others.

"I am sorry," he whispered, "So very sorry."

"Would it have helped," Arthur asked, clearing his throat and rubbing at his face, "if we'd told you we were worried about her two years ago? If-if we had spoken to the Lovegood girl, would it have helped? Could-could we have avoided this?"

"It is not your fault," Albus said sharply, "You must not allow guilt to plague you. If the blame falls on anyone besides Voldemort, it is I."

A part of him was hoping for them to cry out that he was wrong, that it was not his fault.

They did not.

"The Diary-"

"You checked her," Molly sobbed, "You said that there were none of the enchantments left!"

"I was unable to see the damage that had already been caused, not without possibly causing further issues. I was naively optimistic. I should have worried more."

Arthur shook his head, seeming at a loss for words.

There was a series of gentle knocks on his office door, and a moment later, Minerva stepped in.

Albus couldn't recall seeing her as shaken as she was now. Her eyes were distinctly damp and her face pale, her usual sternness absent.

"Albus," she said softly, "the Aurors will be arriving shortly."

At her announcement, Molly's weeping grew louder, the terrible sound of despair tearing at Albus' heartstrings.

"Arthur, Molly," he said, standing up, "I am afraid we will have to postpone the rest of our conversation. I believe a Calming Draught is in order before you are interviewed. Minerva will accompany you."

Nodding grimly, Minerva walked up to the pair and placed a hand on Molly's shoulder, speaking in a quiet, gentle tone.

"We will meet again soon," Albus promised. "And whatever help I can give, anything I can do, I promise, I will."

* * *

Harry sat in the armchair, staring straight ahead and trying to shake off the numbness.

The past four days, since  _it_ had happened, had been some of the worst he could remember, even worse than the time following Voldemort's return.

He hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time since then, and when he had, he'd revisited Hogsmeade over and over again, seeing that green light wipe the life from Luna.

His waking hours were no better. He had been in an almost dreamlike daze most of the time since it happened, feeling like he was just watching a video of himself going about his day.

The short bursts where the numbness wasn't present were almost as bad, with sudden rages or black depression coating him from nowhere.

He knew that his mood changes should worry him. It wasn't normal, that much he was sure of.

He knew that he should be talking to someone about them, that he should at least tell someone what was going on.

He just couldn't work up the energy.

Besides, even if he could tell someone, there wasn't anyone available.

Since the summer holidays, Harry had become quite used to confiding in Ginny. That, obviously, wasn't an option any longer.

Ron had barely been around the last few days, and when he had, Harry hadn't heard him say more than a few words.

Almost every time Harry had seen him since  _it_ had happened, Ron had been with Fred and George, the three of them with thunderous faces. Either with them or, much like Harry was doing, just staring into space with a lost and confused expression.

Even if Harry had been given the chance, he didn't think he would have been able to talk to Ron about it.

Hermione was suffering as well, though it wasn't quite the same as he and Ron. He'd tried explaining what he was feeling to her, but whenever he'd opened his mouth he'd seen Luna's accusing eyes, the way she'd looked just after the Killing Curse had hit her.

With the mail being searched and the Floo patrolled, talking to Sirius was out of the question.

Dumbledore had barely been around, and when he had, he'd given Harry no more than a glance.

McGonagall had actually tried to talk to him. He'd tried to respond, but the same way as he couldn't with Hermione, he found himself unable to talk to her.

In his desperation, Harry would even have tried to talk to Snape during Occlumency.

Well, he might have, if Snape had been around.

The day after Valentine's, Snape had vanished.

And he hadn't been back since.

All Potions classes had been cancelled to the joy of everyone besides the Slytherins.

Harry couldn't quite feel the curiosity that had filled him so often before. He did wonder if Voldemort had figured out that Snape really was on Dumbledore's side, it just didn't give him that burning need for the truth that questions so often had in the past.

It felt, like almost everything lately, as if he had been wrapped in thick cloth and his emotions were happening somewhere on the outside.

He'd even debated going to Madam Pomfrey to discuss the numbness, but had decided against it.

After Hogsmeade, he'd been taken to the Hospital Wing. It had been there that he'd recounted the story while Madam Pomfrey looked over him. And it had been there that Luna's body was brought.

He'd caught a glimpse of her face when her body had been levitated to one of the private rooms; for a moment, the sheet covering her had slipped.

Her eyes had been empty and dull, but they were staring at him accusingly all the same.

Luna was dead, all because of him. Because he'd been stupid enough to get hit with a Body-Bind, because he'd been weak enough to let Ginny drag him all the way up to the Hog's Head.

Someone stepped up to him and he spun, drawing his wand and jumping from the armchair.

For a moment, Ginny's face was before him.

He came within an inch of casting a spell before the image dissipated, revealing a pale-faced, wide-eyed Hermione standing there with arms spread and empty.

"Harry," she frantically said, "Harry, it's me, its-"

"Sorry," he muttered, dropping back into the chair but still keeping a tight grip on his wand.

"Harry," she said softly as she pulled up a chair of her own, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, harsher than he had meant.

Based on Hermione's expression, she didn't believe him at all.

"You need to talk about it," she urged, "Harry, if you keep bottling everything up...I'm worried about you. Ron at least talks to Fred and George. You-you were there. She tricked you. You need to talk about it."

Unbidden, Ginny's voice sounded in his ears, Ginny as she'd been when they were in Grimmauld Place.

 _'You should talk about it. After my first year, I spoke to McGonagall about what happened. It helped. You need to get it out_.'

Ginny had sounded sincere, she'd been someone he trusted, someone he could bare himself to in a way that he never could with Hermione or Ron.

And it had all been a lie.

_'Are you crazy? This is Hermione!'_

Still, he couldn't force himself to speak. When he tried, his tongue cleaved to his throat.

He just nodded.

She stared at him for a while with a sad expression before saying and asking: "Have you been practising Occlumency? Maybe it could help…"

He nodded again, ignoring the tiny twinge of guilt his lying caused.

"I've been thinking," Hermione said. "About the DA. I don't think we should use the Galleons anymore. Ginny might have hers, and then they'd know-"

"I don't think we should carry it on."

Hermione stared at him in befuddlement, her mouth hanging open.

"You don't...why?"

"It's stupid! We're like-like kids, playing at being soldiers! They all think that the great Harry Potter, the great Boy Who Lived," his lips twisted into a sneer at the name, venomous scorn dripping from his word, "is teaching them how to fight Death Eaters, and they're-they're going to take what I teach them and they're going to die! It's all useless! There's no point!"

"Oh, Harry," she said softly, shaking her head and looking distraught. "It's better than nothing."

"No, it isn't!"

He stood up, barely aware of what he was doing, sudden tears making Hermione's face shimmer.

"Luna thought she could fight! She-she tried, because I made her think that she could fight! She tried, and she died!"

"It's not your fault," Hermione said, "You can't-"

"IT'S USELESS!" he bellowed, not caring in the least that everyone else in the Common Room was staring at him.

"It is not," Hermione hissed as she moved closer to him, gripping his arm tight "Harry, they might have to fight whether they want to or not! It's better that they know something, even if it isn't enough! It's better, Harry!"

In his mind, he saw Luna again, waving her wand and trying to save his life while he lay helpless on the ground.

_'It's all useless. There's no point!'_

He tore himself free of Hermione's grip and fled, running out of the Common Room with the memory of Luna's yells sounding in his ears.

* * *

Sirius sighed as Arthur entered the sitting room, rubbing his forehead with a grimace.

He hadn't expected them to just carry on like nothing had happened, true. They had suffered a great shock, not to mention the intensity of the emotions they must have been experiencing. He hadn't expected them to just carry on, but he also hadn't expected Arthur to arrive with the numb, aloof expressions of someone taking regular Calming Draughts.

Not that he could blame him. If it had been him, he would definitely have turned to something to make everything manageable.

He sighed again, glancing momentarily at the half-empty glass in his hand.

The brandy helped, but it was certainly hypocritical of him to worry about Arthur looking for liquid courage with the amount he drank.

He drained the glass in one sip and wordlessly refilled it with a tap of his wand, idly wondering whether Remus was going to berate him again.

Remus was certainly right; he shouldn't be walking into Order meetings with anything but a clear head.

And yet, Sirius was quite sure that if he had to sit through many more of Snape's snide comments he would absolutely lose his mind.

It was bad enough that he had to rely on other people to tell him how Harry was doing; listening to Snape, of all people, talk about James' son as if he were an arrogant, useless slob, made Sirius wish that he could just curse the git again.

Although, if Harry didn't remember about that damn mirror soon, Snape wouldn't be the only one getting cursed.

The door opened and one of the people he'd been waiting for walked in.

"Minerva," he called, her first name still feeling odd on his lips, "good to see you."

"And you as well," she replied, walking toward him.

From close-up, he could see the fresh wrinkles and age lines on her face, how she looked older and more tired than he'd ever seen her.

 _'You're not the only one under stress,'_ he reminded himself,  _'Idiot!'_

"Is everyone here?" She asked.

"Mostly. Still waiting for Bill and Dumbledore."

"Molly and Arthur…" she asked, letting the unspoken question hang on the edge of her sentence.

"Arthur's here," he sighed, "Calming Draughts, if I had to guess. He's very out of things."

Minerva nodded sadly, terrible grief crossing her face for an instant before her usual resolve blotted it out.

"I will have a word with him," she said. "We can't allow them to sink into it. They still have children to care for, even if there were no other considerations."

He exhaled slowly, bringing the glass up to his lips again.

It was terrible, brutal, and unfair, but Arthur and Molly couldn't just stop their Order work. The Order was short-handed enough as it was, and even with Arthur taking a leave of absence from work and a possible Auror investigation surrounding him and his wife, every person helped.

"How's Harry?" He asked, smacking his lips and lowering the glass.

Minerva shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

"He's struggling," she said frankly, "If I had to guess, he's barely been sleeping. He seems very upset. I don't know, Sirius. He's exceptionally angry and hurting badly. I tried to get him to talk, but he's...not very responsive."

"Does he talk to his friends?"

"Granger says that he doesn't. I had her in my office the other day, she says that she's been trying to get through to him with no success. Weasley, Ron, he's been spending much of his time with the twins. He's not avoiding Harry, but if he talks about his feelings, it's with his brothers, not Harry."

Sirius winced, mentally berating himself.

He'd been so focused on Harry, he hadn't thought about what his godson's best friend was going through.

"How are they holding up?"

"Terribly. If it wasn't their respective OWL and NEWT years, I would advise them to leave school for a time."

She looked around for a moment, dropping her voice.

"There was an incident this morning. A Slytherin seventh year was found beaten within an inch of his life, and had various hexes applied to him. There were no witnesses, but a portrait of Serena Moon hangs just around the corner. She heard the student mentioning someone's sister, but did not hear names. That is all we know."

"Can't say I blame them-"

"Don't be stupid," she hissed. "Poppy will wake him tomorrow, and what will happen if he names his assailants? They'll be lucky if they don't have charges laid against them, never mind expulsion!"

"Charges? For a school fight? C'mon-"

"Poppy thought the boy might have to be taken to St Mungo's. And, may I remind you, the twins are both of age. We can only hope that the boy is too frightened of them to finger them, or that he is too dazed to recall what happened."

"If it's a Slytherin," Sirius said, hating what he was about to suggest. "Can't Snape talk to him? Maybe-"

Minerva's face dropped, the worry lines on her forehead cutting Sirius off as easily as if she had Silenced him. He just stared at her for a minute, trying to find his tongue in a dry mouth.

"He's still not back?" He whispered.

"No. Albus managed to convince Horace to take the job for the moment, but it was a very close call. Albus says that he is still alive, but…" Her face fluttered for a moment, terrible, uncharacteristic fear showing. "The Ministry almost put someone else in, another one of their paper-pushers. It's been bad, Sirius. Albus acts calm, but he's barely managed to retain his position at Hogwarts. The Ministry is putting a lot of pressure on the Governors, and if they convince the Board..."

He shook his head wordlessly, anxiety gnawing at him.

"I would like a chance to speak with Arthur before the meeting begins," Minerva said with a gesture to the sitting room. "If you don't mind?"

"Wait. Minerva, could you tell Harry something for me? Just-tell him to remember the gift I gave him."

She stared at him, face unreadable.

"What gift?"

"It's just a two-way mirror. I have the other one. So that I can talk to him. Or at least try."

A suspicious dampness glistening in her eyes, Minerva nodded, her voice as strong as usual.

"I will tell him."

* * *

"Harry? Are you awake?"

From behind the curtains of his bed, Harry grunted.

Hermione sighed heavily, walking further into the gloomy room with Ron just behind her.

It was the middle of the day, and Harry was lying in bed with the curtains drawn and the lights out, blocked away from the world.

"I'm going to let some light in," She warned, a moment before pulling open the drapes.

The curtains around Harry's bed suddenly opened, revealing him sitting there with a thunderous expression.

"What do you want?"

His eyes widened slightly when he took Ron's presence in, a grieving look flickering across his face.

"Just to talk," she said quickly, "Harry, we're worried about you."

"I'm fine-"

"You're fucking well not fine," Ron said harshly, "And that's fine. Just stop pretending like everything's alright, ok? It isn't, and-"

Ron's voice grew thick and he shook his head, muttering: "Nothing's alright."

Harry stared at them, looking like he was either going to burst into tears or start shouting.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, "So just-"

"Tough luck, mate. You don't get to take this harder than me."

Harry winced at Ron's words, his eyes slamming tightly shut.

"You don't understand-"

"So help us understand," she begged, "Please, Harry, you can't keep hiding away!"

"It helps to talk about it," Ron said in a slightly softer tone.

Harry's face grew stony, just for a moment before cracking.

"I trusted her," he said.

"We all did. You weren't wrong to trust her."

His ears bright red, Ron nodded wordlessly, his hands opening and closing.

"I-it seemed so right. And even-even when Snape told me, I barely believed it. And then-I was helpless, I couldn't do anything, and Luna-"

Harry shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"I couldn't do anything! I couldn't stop it-I-Luna, she tried to save me, and-"

His voice cracked as he shook his head again.

"She just killed Luna, Luna was just trying to save me, I couldn't do anything, I shouldn't have-"

He broke off, beginning to actually cry, his shoulders shaking.

Before Hermione could do anything, Ron was sitting on the bed beside Harry, his arm over Harry's shoulders.

"It's not your fault," he said, his voice catching. "It's not your fault."

"It's not," Hermione said before Harry could respond, moving to the bed herself and sitting on his other side. "You can't be blamed for what someone else does. It's not your fault."

"I still-Luna was only there because of me, she only tried to fight because of me-"

"And if it had been someone else? Luna had a chance to survive because of you!"

Harry's hands rose to his face, a muttered "no" escaping him, as if to negate the truth of Hermione's words.

"Harry, it's not your fault! It's not!"

"It isn't," Ron added, "it's hers. It's G-Ginny's fault, not yours."

"It was all a lie," Harry whispered, tears making his voice heavy and thick, "I keep-it felt so real, I can't-it was all a lie. It was all just an act. But I still-I still keep thinking that there was something real."

"She fooled everyone," Ron growled. "I-I keep thinking that there must be some mistake, that she must have been under the Imperius or something. But she wasn't. She isn't. She's-she's one of  _them._ "

"You feel like if you hide away from everyone you won't have to deal with it," Hermione said, beginning to understand, "And that you won't be betrayed again. Harry, you can't live like that. You just can't."

"Hiding up here won't help you face the world. Stopping the DA won't help our friends survive."

Harry shook his head furiously, snarling: "Luna thought-"

"Luna almost managed to Stun  _her_ ," Ron said, "Moody said that she even managed to block one of  _her_ spells. That's more than she could have done otherwise."

"We're going to carry it on," she said. "Even without you, if we must. But, Harry, you're the only one of us who knows what it's really like. You're the only one of us who has actual experience."

"And it'd be good for you to be doing something," Ron added. "Other than classes. You need something to take your mind off of things. And this way, you could be helping to save lives."

"I'll think about it."

"Harry-"

"I said I'll think about it," he snapped.

"You do that," Ron said, looking furious again, "But it's not fair for you to run away from us. You're not the only one having a hard time, you know. You're not the only one she betrayed."

Fuming, Ron stormed out of the room.

* * *

Sirius settled back into his chair, looking around the room and ignoring the growing pit of nervousness in his belly.

Everyone present was muttering to one another, anxiety drawn on their faces.

He was quite sure that, like him, they all at least suspected why it was that Albus had called an emergency meeting.

At their last meeting, two days previously, Albus had been insistent that Snape was still alive. Even so, he'd placed them all on high alert.

No matter how brilliant Snape was, Voldemort would be able to get information from him if he set his mind to it.

Across the table from where he was sitting, Arthur leaned over and whispered something to Kingsley.

As far as Sirius could tell, Arthur was off the Calming Draughts. Sad as it was to see the usually jovial man looking so...broken, it was definitely better for him than to end up addicted to those potions.

If Calming Draughts were taken regularly for long enough, a wizard could end up just like uncle Cygnus, unable to feel any emotions at all.

Beside him, Remus finished whatever he was saying to Bill and started talking to Tonks and Fleur, both of the women looking as wary as everyone else.

"How's your mum?" Sirius asked quietly, leaning closer to Bill.

Bill sighed and shook his head, the dragon's fang earring wobbling dangerously.

His eyes never left his father, Sirius noticed.

"Not great. She's gotten out of bed, at least, but she-I don't know. She smashed our clock yesterday. Ripped Ginny's hand off of it. Then she tried to fix it. Dad had to call me for help."

Sirius winced, the burned spot on the tapestry that had once showed his name flashing before his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it must be terrible. You holding up alright?"

Bill shrugged, the corners of his mouth tightening.

"As well as can be."

His throat worked, making him look like he wanted to say something.

"My brother was a Death Eater," Sirius said, "it was different for me, obviously, with my parents supporting him. But I know a bit of what it's like. If you want to talk…"

Bill nodded curtly, and may have said something, but the door opened and Dumbledore walked in, looking more tense than Sirius had seen him since James and Lily went into hiding.

Dumbledore strode over to his seat, increasing the fear of everyone around the table when he did not pause to greet them.

He sat, steepled his hands on the table and, with no preamble, announced: "Severus is dead."

Immediately, everyone around the table burst into conversation, quickly falling silent at a gesture from the old wizard.

"How certain are you?" Kingsley asked.

"Absolutely. When Severus first retook his position as a spy, the possibility of Voldemort,"

Almost everyone around the table winced or flinched at the name, but Dumbledore continued blithely on.

"The possibility of Voldemort murdering him was raised. We set in place certain mechanisms whereby I would be informed the moment he ceases to live."

"Can't you do that for the rest of us?" Remus asked.

"Not entirely. It would not have been possible, not without Voldemort being capable of circumventing it, if he were not a Professor of Hogwarts. The specifics do not matter now. What we must concern ourselves with is the fact that we can safely assume Voldemort knows everything Severus knew."

Sirius ignored the strange emotions swirling within him, the uncomfortable mixture of pity, guilt, and schadenfreude.

"Haven't we been working under that assumption since he disappeared?"

Dumbledore nodded to Moody, grimacing slightly.

"Indeed. However, until now, there was always hope that Severus would return. That hope is lost. If Voldemort has a plan, for the moment we have no way of finding it out. We must increase security as much as possible."

He turned to Arthur, softening his voice slightly as he continued.

"Arthur, your family is at the greatest risk. How much longer does Charlie need before he can return?"

"He-he said he has another meeting with Moldoveanu on Tuesday. After that, he's coming home."

"He must be on his watch," Dumbledore warned, "The dragon sanctuary is relatively safe, but it would be an easy target for Death Eaters. Likewise, you must try to alert Percy again, even if he ignores you."

"You can't think that G-Ginny-that she-"

"In the past," Dumbledore answered sadly, "Voldemort had forced his followers to prove their loyalty, to show their dedication. We must assume that he will do so again."

Bill shifted next to Sirius, taking a shuddering breath.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said, "I would like you to devise security questions. The chance of Polyjuice being used is too high. Remus, it is best if you stop your work with the packs. Greyback will know all about you, and he will be spreading the word. Guard duty will have to be changed, I believe in the future we should have teams of two at a time. And we should all avoid being alone in public, except where we have no other choice."

"Teams of two? Albus, we barely have enough for-"

"I am aware," Dumbledore said, overriding Bill's attempt. "But being alone there is too dangerous now. And I do not think we should cede the prophecy to Voldemort. Do you?"

Bill held his gaze for a moment before looking down with the tips of his ears bright red.

"Once we can prove Voldemort's existence," Dumbledore said, "it will be easier. Until then, we must be as careful as we can."

The meeting continued for another twenty minutes before Dumbledore announced that he had to leave before his absence from Hogwarts was noticed.

Sirius hurried after him, catching his arm just before Dumbledore exited the house.

"You need to speak with Harry," he said, "You can't keep him in the dark any longer."

"I know, Sirius," Dumbledore replied wearily. "I know."

"So why haven't you-"

"The connection to Voldemort still very much exists. Even so, I would take the chance. But the Ministry is watching my every move. The Aurors placed at Hogwarts for the investigation spend half their time with Umbridge. I dare not risk it. Not yet. Harry will have to wait another few days."

"Can he?" Sirius demanded, "Can he really? He barely talks, he's struggling, and-"

"I am entirely aware of this," Dumbledore said shortly, "Do not take me for a fool. I am aware of the urgency. But at the moment, I need to ensure that they do not try to arrest me or Harry, and that Voldemort does not strike at us. Another few days, Sirius. The Aurors will be gone within a week. Once they are, I will talk to Harry. I promise."

"But-'"

"I must go," Albus said, pushing open the door, "Already I have tarried too long. Goodnight, Sirius."

* * *

"How did you find out about this?" Fudge demanded, standing up in shock.

"I'm sorry, Minister," Lucius replied smoothly, "But you know that I must protect my sources. Suffice it to say that not all at Hogwarts are in Potter's pocket, nor Dumbledore's."

"Surely Draco-"

"My son is no part of this gathering," Lucius said. "But my source feels that some of the students at these meetings were treated...rather unfairly. Unfairly enough for it to fester and explode."

"Galloping Gargoyles," Fudge said, his eyes wider than Galleons. "You mean the Weasley girl-"

"I can say no more than I already have," Lucius said, shifting his weight slightly and letting his pockets jingle. "My source did not wish for the Ministry to find out, and so did not turn to Madam Umbridge. But I knew that this was something you should be told. It is a shame that I discovered this too late to prevent...what already occurred."

"I-thank you, Lucius. You could get an Order of Merlin out of this, if it's what it seems. At least third class."

Lucius held his lips back from curling into the sneer they wanted, forcing a pleased smile onto his face.

Sometimes, he almost wished there was a more competent Minister for Magic, if only so he didn't feel like he was meddling with an infant.

"A most  _generous_ offer," he said, placing the slightest hint of emphasis on the word and making his pockets sing once more, "But one I would, regretfully, be forced to refuse. You know how Dumbledore and his ilk view me, Minister. I will draw no more attention to myself then is necessary."

"Yes," Fudge said absently, reading the parchment again, "Yes, that is wise."

Lucius just watched as Fudge read, making no effort to interrupt.

He knew the contents of the document. After all, he had written it himself, taking the information the girl possessed and phrasing it in the best way to rile Fudge up.

He repressed the shiver that tried to arise in him at the memory. The Dark Lord had been staring at him throughout the entire time, wearing that particular expression that told Lucius that he had not been pardoned, but that his punishment had only been pushed off for as long as he was still useful.

Lucius had to admit, he was lucky to be alive. It was during his first private meeting with the Dark Lord after his return that Lucius discovered just how lucky he was.

He could not hide his shiver at that memory. The Dark Lord had been furious, as enraged as when Snape's treachery was discovered, if not more.

Giving the Dark Lord's diary to the girl had been the stupidest thing he had ever done, no question.

 _'Done is done,'_  he reminded himself.  _'My mistake was believing that he was dead. But I cannot change that, I can only ensure that I remain too useful to be killed out of hand.'_

That, Lucius knew, was his only chance of survival. As it was, he'd spent two days blind, deaf and unable to move, all the while suffering excruciating agony when the Dark Lord had punished him.

The pain had not been quite that of the Cruciatus, but it was more than enough for him to know that he would do anything, anything at all to avoid experiencing it again.

But if he played his cards right, he would be able to come out on top.

If he just obeyed his orders to the full and showed how only he could do so, he would not have to face the Dark Lord's fury again.

"Minister, I must get going," he said, making a show of looking at his watch. "Especially if I want to make this donation before the day ends."

"Of course, of course," Fudge said, bounding out of his chair, seizing Lucius' hand and giving it a vigorous shake. "Lucius, I can't thank you enough. With this, we can finally deal with Potter, maybe even Dumbledore as well. Anything I can do, anything at all, just say the word."

He placed a thoughtful expression on his face and stroked at his chin.

"Well," he drawled, "there is one thing...But no, it would be an imposition."

"Not at all! Not at all! What can I help you with?"

"If," he said, carefully modulating his tone, "I could have a few minutes in the records room…I know this is most unorthodox, but one of my cousins is convinced that someone has had his holiday home registered under their name."

"The records room?"

_'Yes, you blithering fool.'_

He nodded.

"Well," Fudge said, his cheeks coloured, "I don't think anyone has to know that a civilian was allowed in."

Lucius gave his most winning smile.

"Thank you, Minister."

 _'Granger, Dr and Dr,'_ he reminded himselfas he followed Fudge out of the office. _'And Percy Weasley. Everything I can find on them.'_

Yes, the path forward was clear.

He simply had to do whatever the Dark Lord wanted, with no hesitation.

And he would.


	24. Fourth Year, Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for giving you a longer wait than usual between chapters. My schedule changed recently, giving me less time than usual to write. Updates will probably take longer than they used to, but I still have no plans to abandon this story.

 

Year Four, Part Five

"That was good," Bellatrix said with an approving smile. "But you need to get it faster. Try again."

Straightening her back with a click, Ginny nodded, concentrating again.

Gripping her wand tightly, she spun, vanishing and reappearing before the crack of her Apparition had died down.

She'd landed about twenty feet behind Bellatrix, who was already turning to face her. As soon as she appeared, Ginny's wand flashed, a Stunner flying from the tip.

The instant the spell had left her wand, she followed it up, casting a Shield Charm and immediately sending an Explosive Hex, a Disarmer, and a Cutting Curse at Bellatrix in quick succession.

The ground in front of her shield rose in a swirling torrent of dirt and dead leaves which crashed forward, sticking on her shield as if it had been made of glass.

_'She's blocking my vision!'_

With a growl, Ginny sent another Cutting Curse flying toward where Bellatrix had last been.

Almost instantly, a bright blue spell shot through her shield, smashing it apart and hitting her in the shoulder.

Ginny was thrown back a good few feet, coming to land with a stone pressing roughly between her shoulder blades and her arm still vibrating with the force of whatever spell had hit her.

She scrambled to her feet, brandishing her wand and sending a Stunner as soon as she could.

With a loud, shrill laugh, Bellatrix slashed her wand through the air, making Ginny's Stunner veer off course.

Before Ginny could respond, Bellatrix waved her wand again, and something gripped Ginny's midriff tightly, squeezing the air out and throwing her harshly onto the ground.

She rolled over onto her back, frantically trying to breathe, but her lungs stubbornly refused to take in air.

Panicking, she managed to get onto all fours, spots beginning to dance in front of her eyes as Bellatrix walked toward her, still laughing.

She dropped onto her chest, blackness creeping into her vision, hysterically gesturing to her throat and to Bellatrix, silently begging the older witch to help.

With a last full-bellied laugh, Bellatrix waved her wand again, and air rushed into Ginny.

She fell to the ground, relieved tears filling her eyes, too happy to be breathing to even wonder why Bellatrix had kept the spell going for so long.

She took another grateful breath, her chest trembling with it, and then rose, taking Bellatrix's hand and pulling herself to her feet.

"You might think I'm being too harsh on you," Bellatrix said, her voice tempered with a gentle tone that Ginny hadn't heard too often before from her. "But I mean to see you fulfil your potential. You have the intelligence, you have the talent, and you have the will. I will not see Aurors take you. It is better that I'm harsh on you now, so that you can be harsh on our enemies later."

"I-I guess so."

"Trust me," Bellatrix said, her fingers dancing along the back of Ginny's neck. "It's for the best."

"Yeah. You're right."

"I always am, dear. So trust me when I say that one day, they'll all be almost as afraid of you as they are of me."

Ginny paused her steps for a moment, focusing on the large house with unseeing eyes.

Was that what she wanted? To be an object of fear, to be spoken about in the same hushed and terrified tones as the Dark Lord and the rest of the Death Eaters were?

_'They already hate me, after Luna. They must.'_

"It's alright," Bellatrix said softly, her hand resting on Ginny's shoulder. "It's better to be feared than scorned. If they want to hate you for what you believe in, they deserve to have their hate thrown back at them tenfold."

"It's just...hard, sometimes," Ginny whispered, staring at her shoes. "To know that-that they all hate me."

Bellatrix's arm snaked its way around Ginny, pulling their bodies close together.

"Poor baby," she said, hugging Ginny tight. "It gets easier. You're doing the right thing, and if they hate you for it, they deserve all the pain that you can bring them. You know that you're doing the right thing, don't you?"

"I-I do."

"It will get easier," Bellatrix said. "I promise."

* * *

"Honestly," Dolohov said, "As much as anything else, I'm just looking forward to walking into the Wyvern and ordering a drink again, like a free man. One of Quentin's Iced Hippogriffs, no more of this elf-made shit."

Ginny nodded with the rest of them, murmuring assent and acting as if she knew what exactly they were talking about.

She was sitting in the Headquarters' large kitchens along with pretty much all the other escaped Death Eaters. The timorous old House-Elf, Mimsy, had announced lunch and disappeared, probably trying to avoid having to deal with Mulciber again.

"Bullshit," Rowle growled, "You're not thinking about the bar, you're thinking about his whores."

Dolohov chuckled along with the rest of them, but continued as soon as the laughter died down.

"If Azkaban hadn't killed my sex drive," he said with a wink and a nod of his head in Ginny's direction, "You'd all have heard her screaming my name by now."

Ginny blushed, instinctively looking away.

"Aww," Mulciber said, fake pity dripping like honey from his voice. "You've embarrassed her. What's the matter, Weasley? Afraid we've been staring at your tits or something?"

_'Show them you're strong. That's what they need to see.'_

She forced herself to meet Mulciber's eyes, twisted her lips into a painful leer.

"You can look as much as you want," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice from shaking. "But you'll have to keep them in mind for when you're alone."

Still maintaining that lecherous grin, she curled her hand into a slightly open fist and began to shake it up and down.

The room erupted into laughter, with even Mulciber joining in, though the smile never reached his cold, blank eyes.

"I still can't believe fucking Snape turned traitor on us," Travers said, shaking his head and clapping Ginny on the back, "would have been a good entrance for you."

"He got what was coming to him," Bellatrix muttered darkly, sliding into the chair next to Ginny's. "And before you know it, Potter will too."

"Tell us about the brat again," Rabastan said, "How he looked when he realized what you really wanted."

Still smiling slightly, Ginny began to talk, explaining, in minute detail, how the whole disastrous kidnapping attempt had gone, from the moment Harry had first walked down the stairs, up until she had to Apparate away.

In retrospect, knowing that Harry was aware of her plan, his expression when she'd got him with the Body-Bind was actually close to hilarious.

The others seemed to find it funny as well, all of them cracking up laughing when she described it.

Eventually, she finished her story, her voice trailing off as she told about her escape.

This was the part that she dreaded about it, having to tell the part where she failed and ran away like a coward.

But, just like the previous two times she told it, there was no mockery aimed at her for her failure, no disgust in their voices.

Oh, they spat and cursed out Snape, but they seemed to still accept her amongst them, even if not completely.

It was strange, almost surreal, how she had always felt more of a stranger with her roommates than she did with these people, people about whom she'd grown up hearing scary stories from her brothers.

"Pity you went for that girl instead of Moody," Dolohov said wistfully, "You never know, you might have been lucky."

Gibbon snorted, shaking his head.

"More like Moody would have cut her in half."

"He's only human," Dolohov answered, cracking his knuckles menacingly, "He's bound to fuck up sooner or later. And when he does, I'll stick that wooden leg so far up his ass he'll choke on it."

"Thank you for that, Antonin," Rookwood said, startling Ginny with the harshness of his rasp. He barely ever spoke, and when he did, his voice sounded like something had died in his throat. "I've always wanted a mental image of Alastor fucking Moody being sodomized. I don't know how I managed until now."

"I'm just saying, that fucker killed Evan-"

"He killed a lot of us," Jugson said quietly, making everyone look at him; he usually spoke even less than Rookwood.

"That he did," Bellatrix grimly, "And soon he'll get his just desserts. All of them will."

"It can't happen too soon. Waiting to get people in position and take care of Potter is all well and good, but it needs to happen already."

"It will," Bellatrix said confidently, nodding to Mulciber, "The plan-"

"It's your idea, isn't it, Weasley?" Mulciber interrupted.

"Mostly," she said with a shrug.

"I hope for your sake it works," Dolohov said.

"The Dark Lord thinks it will," she said. "And I know Potter. It will work."

"If it doesn't," Mulciber said, grinning again, "We'll just have to find another use for you. I'm sure I'll think of something."

Cackling wildly, Bellatrix leaned over, twining a strand of Ginny's hair around her finger. "I'm sure if she ever has the misfortune of seeing you naked, Jared, she'll be far too busy laughing to do anything else."

A fleeting look of furious hatred flashed across Mulciber's face before it was replaced with a smile, his eyes still glittering dangerously.

A chill shot through Ginny, the laughter around her suddenly sounding tinny and dull.

_'I'm going to have to be very, very careful around him.'_

Dolohov caught her gaze and, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, nodded, a compassionate look on his face.

"Tell them about Barty," Bellatrix said, giving a small "How he helped the Longbottom boy to come out of his shell."

Chuckling, Ginny joined the conversation again, ignoring Mulciber's stare and pushing her worries to the back of her mind.

* * *

The hare twitched again, its hind legs feebly trying to jump even though it lay on its side, its torso rising with extreme slowness.

"You see," Bellatrix said poking it in the thigh with her wand, "it takes a long time to die this way. It's not so clear on an animal like this, but it can  _feel_  its organs slowing down. If you ever do it to someone, they'll be willing to do whatever you want to make it stop."

Chuckling darkly, she rose, waving her wand again.

The hare spasmed, its legs shaking madly as it emitted a high-pitched keening noise.

Then it jumped up, waggled its long ears, and bounded off into the woods.

"It's easy enough to reverse, as long as you do it in time. No lasting damage either. Of course, they usually forget their promises as soon as they can breathe again."

"So what do you do then?" Ginny asked.

"You repeat it. It's good because it's slow. If you're doing something like this, you have time to play around, to take as long as you like. You want to make sure that they're completely broken, that they won't even think about disobeying you or lying. You take your time."

"Why not just use Veritaserum?"

"Veritaserum," Bellatrix sneered. "Oh, it's very useful, but it takes a month to make, and you only get a few doses at a time. There are ways to get around it too, Occlumency and antidotes, but even more than that, it doesn't help. The Veritaserum will wear off, and you can't give it too often or they develop an immunity, and Veritaserum doesn't  _break_ someone the way my methods do. And Veritaserum is exceptionally boring."

"I guess so."

"It really is. There's no room for finesse, no room to have fun and experiment. Not to say that it doesn't have its place."

"Tell me," Bellatrix asked after a minute of comfortable silence. "Are you ready for tomorrow night?"

"I think so," Ginny said, butterflies suddenly appearing on her belly. "I think I am."

"The muggles should be easy enough," Bellatrix said in a gentle tone. "But your brother…"

"He probably hates me," Ginny sighed. "Like the rest of them."

Shrewd eyes glinted, needling in on Ginny and examining her closely.

"Focus on that," Bellatrix said. "Keep it in mind, how much he hates you. Take that hatred and turn it back on him."

"I will. It should be easy. It's just...he's my brother."

"Family is important," Bellatrix said, her eyes distant, "But some things are far more important. If your family wants your mercy, they should deserve it."

Ginny nodded, lapsing into silence.

"You'll do wonderfully," Bellatrix said, "I believe in you."

She winked then, tangling her hand in Ginny's hair again.

"You're too delicious to disappoint me," she said, "So see that you don't. I'd hate to have to hurt Mulciber for you."

Ginny felt the blush starting, but forced herself to meet Bellatrix's eyes anyway.

"Should-should I be worried about him? He seems-"

"Not at all," Bellatrix said, shaking her and sending her mane of hair flapping wildly behind her. "I made it clear to him that you are not available for his desires. He won't do anything to you, not unless you show him that you want it."

Ginny stopped walking, her jaw dropping as she stared at Bellatrix.

"Th-thank you," she said fervently. "Thank you! He was-I was afraid-thank you."

"As long as I'm around," Bellatrix said, "You don't have to fear him."

* * *

Luna walked up to her, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

"I never thought that you would kill me," she said, shaking her head softly and speaking in much the same tone as if they were discussing another one of her father's theories.

Ginny looked around in dismay, her heart thumping in her chest.

A thick mist coated her surroundings, tendrils of it extending and twisting oddly, giving the place an odd, half-formed look.

"This is a dream," she said.

"Is it?" Luna asked, looking interested. "I've never been in a dream before."

"Stop it," Ginny moaned, "go away. You're dead, just go away!"

"You killed me for nothing," Luna replied calmly, "I thought you loved me. I was never afraid  _of_ you. I was always afraid  _for_ you."

"You tried to stop me, it was your fault! You gave me no choice!"

"All I wanted was to save you. I loved you. I thought you loved me too."

"I did," Ginny whispered, "but you interfered."

Luna drew closer, teardrops glistening on her eyelashes.

"Liar," she said, moving in and pressing her mouth to Ginny's.

Tears pricked against Ginny's closed eyelids as she responded, her hands flying up to grip Luna around the waist and pull her closer.

Even if it was just a dream, it felt so good.

Luna stopped suddenly, taking a step back.

Opening her eyes, Ginny gasped, her hand flying for a wand that wasn't there.

As she watched, the skin withered and turned to dust as the hair sloughed off of Luna's head, the grinning skull below slowly coming into view.

Thick, dark blood began to pour from her empty eye sockets and her mouth opened, a dried-up husk of a tongue flashing over empty gums.

"You didn't love me," the Luna-thing said, "You don't love anyone. A monster like you can't."

"I did! I did! This is a dream! It was all your fault!"

It stepped closer, bleached-white bone gleaming as a skeletal hand rose, reaching out towards her face.

She landed on the floor with a thump, the blanket twisted around her legs and her heart pounding so hard it felt as if it would burst.

She lay there for a few minutes, the moonlight shining through the window shimmering through the tears in her eyes.

Slowly, she got up and lay back in bed, taking deep breaths and forcing the tension out of her body.

"Just a dream," she muttered, "just a stupid, meaningless dream. It was her fault, it was her fault!"

When she finally fell back asleep, her sleep was fitful, thin, and blessedly dreamless.

* * *

When Ginny woke up again, Bellatrix was in the room, leaning over her and staring intently at her face.

She yelped, lurching back and catching a wallop on the back of her head from the wall.

"What are you doing?" She snapped, rubbing her head furiously.

"Just checking to see if the spots had come back," Bellatrix replied, wholly unruffled. "The Dark Lord said that they might. They haven't."

Still scowling, Ginny sat up, glancing at herself in the mirror across the room.

True to Bellatrix's words, the spots that had appeared on her face the other night had not made a resurgence.

It wasn't exactly surprising. After all, the Dark Lord himself had removed the strange itchy pustules that had covered her face and spelt out the word 'sneak' when she'd been talking about the DA.

As far as they'd been able to figure, Hermione must have cursed the parchment she'd made the whole DA sign.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. The Mudblood's spell was clearly no match for the Dark Lord.

"What's got you so grumpy today?" Bellatrix asked, dropping onto the bed.

Ginny shook her head, tearing her attention away from the mirror.

"Bad dreams," she said. "And bad sleep."

"Poor baby," Bellatrix said, reaching out and stroking Ginny's hair. "Tell Bella all about them."

Sighing, Ginny began to explain the dream she'd had; how Luna had appeared and berated her before kissing her and turning into a skeletal mockery.

By the time she was done, Bellatrix's face seemed to glisten through the tears.

"Poor baby," Bellatrix repeated when she had finished, "But only to be expected. She was your first kill, wasn't she?"

"No. There was Higgs. I never had bad dreams about him."

"That doesn't count. That was like squashing a mosquito. A disgusting insect that thought to do you harm. But this girl, this Luna. You really did love her, didn't you?"

Ginny nodded, something thick blocking her throat.

"Shhh," Bellatrix said, pulling Ginny and holding her tight against her chest. "It's all right. You did the right thing."

A sob tore its way out of her, and like a dam wall breaking, Ginny began to shake with her tears, weeping unrestrainedly into Bellatrix's robes.

"Let it out, let it all out," Bellatrix crooned. "You'll feel better soon."

Eventually, Ginny pulled away from Bellatrix, barely noticing the enormous damp spot her crying had left on the front of the older witch's robes.

"Thanks," she muttered, not quite able to meet Bellatrix's eyes.

"Just remember that you made the right choice," Bellatrix said. "It will make it easier."

"The Ageing Potion will be ready today, right?" Ginny asked, eager to change the subject away from Luna.

From Bellatrix's half-pitying, half-disdainful glare, she knew exactly what Ginny was trying to do.

"This afternoon. Remember, you're not to eat or drink anything before it."

"I know."

"Make sure you do. You can't mess up the spell. He'll be furious."

"I know. I won't mess it up."

"You had better not," Bellatrix warned. "Now that I'm finally getting used to you."

Ginny got up, and paying no mind to Bellatrix's presence, began to strip out of her pyjamas, pulling some underwear and a set of jet-black robes out of the chest of drawers set against the wall.

"Cissy's meant to be buying you some new robes today or tomorrow," Bellatrix said from behind her. By the sound of it, she was smirking. "Not that I wouldn't prefer for you to have no clothes at all."

Blushing, Ginny pulled her panties up, her fingers shaking slightly as she picked up the bra.

There'd been a lot of comments like that, since she'd moved into the Dark Lord's headquarters. The men were the worst culprits, but Bellatrix seemed to be as quick with a leer and a dirty joke as even Mulciber and Rabastan were.

At the thought of Mulciber's empty eyes, she shivered.

From Bellatrix, the comments made her blush and wonder. From the men, they made her stomach clench up.

But when Mulciber looked at her and said those things, it made her want to run and hide.

She didn't even need to think about it to know that Mulciber would make Higgs look like a caring, gentle lover.

Not that she could run, really. Since she'd been healed, she'd been spending as much time with Bellatrix as possible, but even so, she couldn't just avoid the rest of them completely.

There was Mulciber, Rabastan, and his weird, creepy brother Rodolphus, who could usually be found talking with each other, often in the forested area behind the large house. There was Rookwood, who was in the library every time Ginny went in. There were Dolohov and Travers, who seemed to spend all of their time duelling or eating.

There was Jugson, Rowle, and Gibbon, none of whom spoke much.

There was Pettigrew, who acted as if he was terrified of everyone else and crept around the house looking like he would burst into terrified tears at any moment.

And there was Bellatrix, who sometimes treated Ginny like a friend, sometimes like a child she'd been hired to look after, and sometimes like an object of utter scorn.

All in all, life at the Death Eater headquarters was nothing like Ginny had been expecting.

Frankly, she hadn't thought about it that much, how it would be on a day to day basis. She'd been too busy imagining the glory she'd get after bringing Potter to the Dark Lord to wonder about it.

If she had, she'd have imagined it entirely differently.

She certainly wouldn't have imagined it as being like a holiday.

Whenever he wasn't meeting with non-fugitive Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord was sequestered in his study, reading books on magic whose subjects Ginny couldn't even understand and making plans that were revealed to nobody.

Meanwhile, the rest of them were left to just...entertain themselves. It was wonderful, in a way, having no expectations of her, nothing she needed to do.

At least, nothing to do yet.

In the meantime though, she'd just been settling in.

It had only been a week or so since she was healed and woken up from her coma, but Ginny already felt more at home in the Death Eater headquarters than she could ever remember feeling at the Burrow.

Even the other Death Eaters were welcoming, their uncomfortable comments notwithstanding. They were a lot better when Bellatrix was around, seeming to be slightly afraid to say anything too harsh, but they seemed happy to have her as one of them even when Ginny was alone.

She'd faced a few comments aimed at her family, but those had mostly stopped after Bellatrix told the others about the idea Ginny had suggested to the Dark Lord.

Ginny did keep getting the feeling that they were reserving judgement on her, particularly Mulciber.

More than all of that, Bellatrix had made Ginny feel at home.

She mostly stayed with Bellatrix, talking with and learning from the older witch. They spent hours together at a time, with Bellatrix explaining the foundations of dark magic and using animals they found in the woods to demonstrate its capabilities.

They even duelled, pretty much every day, always ending with Ginny splayed out on the grass and Bellatrix cackling in the background.

This morning wasn't the first time that Bellatrix had woken her up, and it wasn't the first time she'd comforted Ginny after a nightmare.

Even after all that, Ginny was still unsure exactly how Bellatrix viewed her. Sometimes, she was sure that Bellatrix was flirting with her, and that her lewd comments were more than just dirty jokes told reflexively.

She found it very hard to imagine though. Bellatrix was old enough to be her mother, not to mention the fact that she was apparently married to Rodolphus, no matter how little time they spent with each other.

Still, Ginny couldn't quite get the idea out of her head, and to be honest, wasn't sure if she wanted to. The more time she spent with Bellatrix, the more she realized that Barty hadn't once exaggerated how incredible she was. If anything, he'd understated it.

She was brilliant, smarter than anyone Ginny knew besides the Dark Lord, and she could understand Ginny in a way that no-one had since Barty. Oh, when it came to her feelings about her family, Bellatrix seemed lost, but with regards to anything else, Bellatrix understood her.

More than once, Ginny had wondered if she dared to do it, if she should just try and kiss her and see what would happen.

But then Bellatrix would make a mocking, hurtful comment, and Ginny would be left beyond confused.

And when they were duelling, Bellatrix seemed to take far too much joy out of hurting her.

 _'It's because she's never seen me succeed in anything,'_ she thought, pulling her robes closed around and nodding at her reflection.  _'After tonight, that'll change.'_

As if the thought had been audible, Bellatrix said: "You've got a very big day ahead of you. You should probably relax a little."

Turning around to face her, Ginny asked: "I thought you were coming with tonight?"

"Of course I am. But you'll be the one actually doing it. I'll just be there to witness."

"Well, I'm not going back to bed now."

"Of course not. But it's a nice day. Come," Bellatrix beckoned to her and began walking to the door. "Let's go outside."

* * *

Her throat dry as sand, Ginny coughed, wishing that she could just have a sip of water.

Bellatrix was drinking, droplets leaking off of her conjured goblet and falling to the ground.

Ginny still couldn't drink anything, not until she'd had the Ageing Potion and done whatever it was she needed for the Trace to be removed.

Agreeing to a duel definitely hadn't been her best idea. Her whole body was aching even after Bellatrix's healing charms, and her stomach cried out to be filled.

"You're getting better," Bellatrix said, lowering the goblet. "Why, another few months and you might resemble a challenge."

Ginny just nodded, not even feeling energetic enough to bristle up at the insult.

"Don't worry. It's only another hour until you can take the potion. You need to do it at midday."

"I'm fine," Ginny said. "Just thirsty."

"You'll be alright," Bellatrix said flippantly, walking over to where Ginny sat and dropping onto the grass beside her. "In Azkaban, they sometimes went days without feeding us."

"That's terrible," Ginny whispered.

"It is what it is. They wanted to hurt us, to punish us for our loyalty."

Bellatrix cackled suddenly, frightening a pair of swallows out of the trees.

"Well, we showed them! We'll see who's scared once they know the truth, once we have power again! They'll all see the rewards for those of us who were loyal, who never lied about our part!"

"And even you," Bellatrix continued, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "You'll be rewarded too. After everything you went through for him, you'll be almost as high as me."

Ginny nodded tiredly, a smile cracking through her exhaustion.

"I've been thinking," Bellatrix said, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone, "about a nice present for you, after he gives you the Mark. I think I'll give you that boy's parents. Would you like that?"

"Higgs?" Ginny whispered.

"Of course. Who else?"

_'Why not? If you could kill Luna, if you can kill Percy and Hermione's parents, you can certainly kill them.'_

"I think I would. I don't know."

"It must have been horrific," Bellatrix said softly, leaning right up to Ginny. "Having to do what he wanted. Did you know that you liked girls already?"

Ginny shrugged, trying to throw her mind back to that time.

She could vaguely remember daydreaming about Harry, before Tom had shown her the truth. And she could clearly remember dreaming about Tom.

"I don't know what I like," Ginny said. "I think-I think I might like boys also."

"Really?"

"I used to-used to dream about To-The Dark Lord. The memory of him, from the diary. I think-I only realised last year that I even like girls also."

"Some people like both. By the time I was ten, I knew I only liked girls. The thought of a man…" Bellatrix shook her head, an expression of utter, total disgust flickering across her face.

"But you-" Ginny goggled, "You're married!"

"Of course I am. I wanted a baby, and after Andromeda ran off with her mudblood, someone needed to keep up appearances."

Laughing at Ginny's shocked face, Bellatrix continued.

"Rodolphus isn't so bad, as men go. He shuts up when he should, and he knows what's important. He's loyal to the Dark Lord. And I taught him that I'm not interested in rutting with him."

"But-you said you wanted a baby-"

"There are ways to do that without having to act as their toys," Bellatrix spat, rubbing her belly with a faraway look in her eyes. "If it works. If it lasts for more than a month or two. If the baby isn't a weak, disgraceful-"

"So you and Rodolphus...You never-"

"He wanted to. Oh, he wanted to."

Bellatrix laughed again, twirling her wand through her fingers.

"He didn't press it, at first," she said, speaking mostly to herself. "And I was good to him. I found him girls that he could use as he wished, as long as it was out of the public eye. We even shared them, sometimes. But he wanted me. I was his wife, he said, and he wanted me."

"What did you do?"

"I took it off," Bellatrix said, "Wand and snitches both. I took it off and fed it to him, and I taught him to know his place. No babies for Bella, not from  _him._ "

"And he didn't fight back?" Ginny asked, caught somewhere between horror and fascination.

"He tried," Bellatrix said with a smirk, giving her wand a twist and making a rock explode a small distance away from them. "But I was always better than him. He learned his place, and a month later we went to Azkaban. I think it broke him, actually. His…loss, the Dark Lord's disappearance, and then Azkaban. He's just a shell of what he once was. Once upon a time, he'd have already had you eating from his palm."

Ginny thought of the strange way Rodolphus had of staring into space with his mouth half-open and his fat tongue resting on his lower lip, the way his fingers always shook and his eyes were always leaking.

A shell of a man indeed.

"Why did you even need to marry? If you could...have a baby without fucking them-"

"Because of Andromeda," Bellatrix hissed, her wand suddenly rigid in her hand. "Because Blacks do not have children out of wedlock. Because one of us could do as we wished, but two would be too many. Because Andromeda was a Blood-traitor slut and that meant that I had to keep to expectations."

"Did you ever have any girlfriends at school?" Ginny asked, "Wouldn't you have to keep them secret?"

"They were always secret," Bellatrix said, a touch morosely, "Always. It would not do for my... proclivities to be known."

Bellatrix shook her head then, her hair fanning out around it.

"It's time," she said, standing up and nodding at the house. "Let's get you ready for action."

* * *

The writhing finally stopped, the strange sensation of her body being pressed and stressed and pounded ending as suddenly as it had begun.

Slowly, she stood up, looking down at herself and shaking on unsteady legs.

It felt bizarre, like looking at a stranger even though she knew it to be her body.

Her robes were far too small for her; her arms and legs poked out by several inches, and if her collar was any tighter around her neck she'd have been on the floor gasping for breath.

Her height wasn't the only thing that had changed; her hair had grown, hanging down to the small of her back, and her breasts seemed to have burst from her bra.

 _'At least I know I'll be bigger,'_  she thought, clamping down on the mad urge to laugh and continuing to eye her changed body.

From what she could see of them, she'd be growing quite a bit of hair on her arms and legs. Her body seemed to have filled out, her hips rounded and her belly slightly plump.

She ran her fingers over her legs, feeling muscles that hadn't been so pronounced before drinking the potion.

The Dark Lord stood halfway across the room from her, with a smiling Bellatrix at his side. As Ginny looked up, the older witch winked at her.

"A normal Ageing Potion will not remove the Trace," the Dark Lord said, "An altered one, however, will. Now to ensure that the Trace does not fall upon you again once it wears off."

A hint of cold amusement entered his voice, a slight sneer pulling at his lipless mouth.

"You will experience some discomfort. Prepare yourself."

With no more warning than that, he waved his wand.

Discomfort did not even begin to describe it.

Something seemed to thrash inside her belly, like a taut rope that had suddenly come loose.

Intense, horrific pain flooded through her as an enormous invisible hand gripped her around the midriff, squeezing the air out of her and dropping her to the carpet.

Black spots danced before her eyes as she forced her mouth open, compelling her lungs to take in air.

Her arms twisted strangely, her legs spasming against the floor as something, some intangible, powerful force moved through her, squeezing her limbs one at a time and seeming to stretch out her every cell.

The pain changed, becoming almost as overwhelming as that of the Cruciatus and she screamed, her throat feeling like it was going to tear.

Time swept over her, no sensation registering in her mind except that force moving through her and a feeling as if her blood had turned to ice.

When the spell was removed, she lay there for a few minutes, her cheek pressed to the shaggy carpet beneath her, her limbs jittering uncontrollably.

However long it had gone for, it had been enough for the Ageing Potion to wear off. The sun still shone through the windows, but it was heading towards the horizon.

She rose slowly, ignoring the enormous holes in her robes that she'd apparently ripped in her squirming.

With Bellatrix by his side grinning madly, the Dark Lord nodded at her, a small smile forming on his serpentine face.

"Eat," he said, "and rest. Tonight, you will have the chance to prove yourself."

* * *

Steeling himself, Harry entered the Common Room and immediately made a beeline to where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

Hermione greeted him softly when he arrived, but Ron just continued staring into the fire with a muscle in his clenched jaw twitching.

"You're right," he said, "I think we should start the DA again. We can meet tomorrow night. None of the other houses has Quidditch practise then."

Ron nodded, some of the tension melting out of his set shoulders before returning a moment later.

"Good," Hermione said fervently, "They've all been asking me. I'll spread the word tomorrow morning."

_'Sirius was right. I need to do this. I need to say it.'_

It was only the long conversations with Sirius through the mirror that had given him the courage to even think of it, but now that he had, he had no choice.

"Ron," he said quietly, "I'm sorry. I've been a really selfish, shitty friend lately. I'm sorry, mate."

Like before, the tension vanished from Ron, a startled, happy look flickering across his face.

"Git," he said fondly, "Don't worry about it. I understand."

"I should have at least tried to talk to you," Harry continued, not looking at Hermione's pleased expression. "I know that whatever I'm feeling, it must be worse for you. I should have-"

"Yeah, but then you'd lose your brooding look. Just don't fall into yourself again, and it's alright."

"I won't. And I should-"

"Please don't start giving me all that," Ron said, "I get enough pity from the rest of our roommates, don't you start too."

"Fine," Harry said, grinning despite himself, "Wanker."

Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm, but Ron chuckled.

"How's your family doing?"

Ron shook his head, his attention going to the fire again.

"Fred and George barely talk," he said, "and when they do, half the time they're talking about catching her, the rest about dealing with the Slytherins who keep making stupid comments. Charlie's...Charlie. He's coming back to England in the next few days. Bill says that mum and dad are doing a bit better."

He scowled, his fists opening and closing.

"At least, they were."

"What happened?" Hermione whispered, looking as if she, like Harry, was dreading the answer.

 _'It can't have happened too long ago,'_ he thought,  _'Otherwise she'd already know.'_

"Apparently we all have to be on our guards," Ron said bitterly. "You Know Who sometimes makes the-the new Death Eaters prove that they're more loyal to him than anything else. Even-even more than to their families."

"God, Ron," Hermione said, "that's terrible."

"Fucking hell," Harry muttered.

"Yeah. The Burrow's safe, and me and Fred and George are here. But...dad tried to warn Percy. Percy sent him a howler."

"No!"

"He did," Ron said, nodding at Hermione. "I can't really imagine she'd actually do it, but it'd serve him right if she-if she attacked him. Smarmy git."

"Fuck, Ron," Harry said, "That's horrific."

Ron gave a little, hollow laugh, continuing to stare resolutely into the dancing flames.

"It is what it is," he finally said. "I just-I wish it would all turn out to be a mistake, you know?"

"Yeah."

Shaking his head, Ron stood up.

"It'll be good to have the DA going again," he said, "If I-if I ever see her again-I need to know that I can hold my own. I need to-"

Ron squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his fists clenching again as something in his voice cracked.

"I'm going to bed," he said a moment later, his eyes opening again. "It's good to have you back with us, Harry."

* * *

"Please," Hermione's mother begged, "Please, just-"

Bellatrix slashed her wand through the air, sending the Muggle woman flying backwards harshly. She crashed into the wall, knocking into a shelf and sending books and family pictures in silver frames careening down.

On the floor, Hermione's father pushed himself to his knees, coughing heavily and pressing his hand to his side, where Ginny's Bludgeoning Hex had broken his ribs.

It had been easier than Ginny thought it would, even with the targets being muggles. They'd Apparated right in, disturbing the couple as they sat in the living room and read.

It had been the work of less than a minute to show them who they were dealing with.

"You've never used the Cruciatus on a person," Bellatrix said, "have you?"

Ginny shook her head, staring down at the spluttering man at the floor and trying to sort through the mass of emotions whirling up within her.

"Take whatever you want," Hermione's father said, "Please, just-"

Bellatrix reached out, her hand running gently through Ginny's hair.

"Just do it," she said, "Hurt him."

Ginny raised her wand, her heart thumping in her throat, her hand trembling.

"Please-leave us-"

"Take all that delicious anger you have," Bellatrix whispered, moving closer to Ginny and stroking the back to her neck. "All that pain from how your family treat you, all that hatred. Let him feel what you feel, show him agony. His daughter is friends with Potter, let her suffer. Do it. Make him scream."

_'He's just a worthless Muggle. Luna was important to you, and you killed her when needed. Do it.'_

"Crucio!"

He started howling, falling to the floor and rolling around, his voice sounding like a dog in pain.

"RICHARD! STOP IT, PLEASE-"

Ginny ended the curse, a feeling of utter power and control coursing through her.

He continued to scream, still writhing on the floor with his body jerking around like a live wire.

"PLEASE, STOP-"

"Her too," Bellatrix whispered.

She felt incredible, the tinge of revulsion that had plagued her earlier having vanished, fierce, furious joy making her heart swell.

A grin pulled at her lips, a giggle bursting out of her.

"Crucio!"

Bellatrix cackled wildly, fisting Ginny's hair and pulling her close as Hermione's mother began to wail, falling to the floor beside her husband.

A puddle formed under the shrieking Muggle, the acrid scent of urine filling the air.

Leaning against Bellatrix, Ginny began to laugh, the thought of Hermione's expression when she would find out what happened to her parents suddenly hilarious.

_'What is wrong with you? She's just-'_

_'She's a dirty Mudblood, and she's friends with Harry! She deserves to suffer!'_

Bellatrix threw her arms around Ginny, pulling her into a close embrace, her breasts pushing up against Ginny's side.

"Wonderful," she whispered, her breath hot against Ginny's ear. "But we'll have plenty of time to play another time. Tell them why you're doing it and kill them."

Almost regretfully, Ginny ended the curse and stood, sneering down at the muggles.

_'Disgusting animals. They don't deserve to live. If I could kill Luna, I can definitely kill them.'_

"This is all your daughter's fault," she said, aiming her wand carefully. "She made the wrong friends. Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

Unable to help herself, she opened the drawer next to Percy's bed, absentmindedly scratching her left arm.

She felt her nails break the skin just above her elbow and grimaced, pulling up her sleeve and eyeing the bead of blood making its way down her bare arm.

Her skin would not be bare for much longer, she knew. Only one more thing to do, and she would finally get what she wanted, what she needed so badly.

Only one more death, and she'd finally be Marked, her allegiance proudly declared to all who cared to look.

She wouldn't have that strange feeling of being the odd one out when she was with the other Death Eaters, wouldn't have to suffer through their calculating looks, not when they could see that she was one of them in truth.

And maybe, after one more murder, Bellatrix would see her as something more than a girl who she had to train.

Just one more death.

They'd decided not to go after Charlie in Romania. Unlike Percy, Charlie was very much a part of the Order of the Phoenix. It was more than likely that he'd managed to convince some of his co-workers to join, and the chance of them ending up in a fight was too high, not to mention the chance of Charlie having moved back to England.

She and Bellatrix had arrived in Percy's apartment close to half an hour ago, and he still hadn't walked in. His roommate, a wizard Ginny vaguely recognized from Hogwarts, had been there, but Bellatrix had killed him in the blink of an eye.

Then they'd prepared the apartment, setting up Privacy and Anti-Apparition Charms.

After that, boredom had claimed Ginny, and she'd started looking around.

She knew that going through his stuff was dumb, that it'd make it much harder for her to emotionally distance herself from what she was about to do, but she just couldn't help it.

Bellatrix's preening, flirty comments weren't helping either. As much as Ginny appreciated them, all she wanted was to keep her mind empty, to just not think about what she was going to do when Percy got home.

She turned her attention back to the drawer, pulling out Percy's old Head Boy badge and glancing at it before tossing it onto the bed.

His Prefect badge was pulled out next, followed by the letters he'd received when he'd been appointed Prefect and Head Boy.

Snorting, she tossed them next to Head Boy badge, picking up the next sheath of parchment, which seemed to letters of recommendation from teachers at Hogwarts and people at the Ministry.

She was just adding those to the growing pile on the bed when something buried at the bottom of the drawer caught her eye.

She pulled the photograph out, her breath catching in her throat and tears springing up in her eyes.

It showed her and Percy standing in front of a pyramid with their arms around each other's shoulders, both of them grinning at the camera with their hats perched jauntily on their heads.

A strip of spellotape ran down the middle of the photo, covering where Percy had clearly tried to tear her out of the picture before regretting it.

 _'It doesn't matter,'_ she thought, blinking furiously,  _'The Dark Lord said I must do it. I need to do it. I need to! He hates me, anyway. He must hate me.'_

She tore up the photo, ripping it into as small shreds as she could before dropping them to the ground.

As she began to stand, the sound of footsteps drew near, Bellatrix appearing at the door to Percy's room.

"Quickly," she hissed, "he's almost here!"

Ginny jumped to her feet, pulling out her wand and hurrying toward the older witch.

"How do you-"

"I looked through the door! He's just down the hall!"

As they walked into the sitting room, they heard the sound of a key turning in a lock.

Ginny stiffened, raising her wand, and the door opened with Percy walking through.

He had time to take one look at them, his jaw dropping and a large black briefcase falling from his suddenly limp hand, before Bellatrix slashed her wand through the air.

Percy's wand flew from his pocket toward them, the door slamming shut behind him.

From the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed Bellatrix catching the wand and pocketing it.

"G-Ginny-" Percy stammered, paling rapidly and raising his empty hands, "You-she-you-"

She kept her wand raised, aimed directly at his chest. The tip made figure eights in the air with the shaking of her hand.

"Do it," Bellatrix urged, "Don't think, just do it."

"G-Ginny-don't-whatever it is, we can-we can talk-don't-I love you-don't-"

"Lies," Bellatrix purred. "He hates you. They all do. The Dark Lord doesn't, and he told you to do it!"

"What-I don't-please, please-"

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and trying to banish the sudden barrage of images assaulting her.

In her mind she saw Percy, helping her learn how to read and do sums. Percy, telling off Fred and George when they'd stolen and hid her toy dragon, Percy apologizing for not looking after her enough during her first year at Hogwarts, Percy, sending her a signed photograph of the Holyhead Harpies.

_'I can't do this, I can't do this-'_

_'You have to. Don't you want to be accepted by them? Don't you want to show how loyal you are?'_

"Ginny, I promise, I can help-I won't tell anyone-"

_'He hates you. They all do. He doesn't want to help you. He'd send you to Azkaban as quickly as Barty's father sent him.'_

Hatred bubbled up in her, turning her belly to a pool of acid.

"Do it, love. Kill him, and the Dark Lord will trust you as much as he does me. Do it."

Her eyes flew open.

Percy had dropped to his knees, his hands clasped before him, his face a picture of misery with tears streaming down it.

_'Disgusting. Look how weak he is. Disgusting.'_

"Don't," he whispered, "Ginny, I'm family, don't-"

"I have a new family," she said, forcing herself to smile. "And you aren't in it. Avada Kedavra!'

His wail almost drowned out her incantation, but the spell shot true, hitting him in the chest and dropping him like a sack of potatoes, cutting his voice out the instant it struck.

She didn't even have a chance to think about what she'd done before Bellatrix grabbed her roughly, one hand seizing her around the waist, the other tugging at her hair.

Bellatrix twisted her around, pulling them tightly together and pushing her face up to Ginny's.

Ginny didn't hesitate. With her heart beating a thousand miles per hour and her belly fluttering, she moved forward, kissing Bellatrix.

Taking Ginny's eagerness entirely in her stride, Bellatrix pressed forward, her hand stroking its way down to squeeze Ginny's ass, her tongue flickering onto Ginny's as their lips glued together even tighter.

All thought vanished from Ginny's mind, nothing but the overwhelming, incredible sensation. It was nothing like she'd experienced before. There was a wildness to it, a primaeval lust, a feeling as if Bellatrix was going to swallow her whole.

Moaning into Bellatrix's mouth, Ginny moved, melting into Bellatrix, her hands beginning to roam the other witch's body.

She reached under Bellatrix's robes, animalistic fervour claiming her, nothing in her mind but the need to remove their clothes and revel in sensuality.

With a wide grin and a mad fire in her eyes, her face transformed into something young and wild and beautiful beyond description, Bellatrix pulled away, laughing as Ginny moaned and took a step forward.

"We'll have all night for that," Bellatrix said, her voice a lecherous promise, "But first, we need to see the Dark Lord."

She tapped Ginny on the arm, her smile widening.

"Let's get that taken care of," she whispered, "and then we can carry on where we left off. My beautiful, brilliant baby. Come."

With a wave of her wand, Bellatrix removed the Anti-Apparition Charm.

Ginny nodded, the fire of need burning even hotter in her heart.

With a twist and a crack, they Apparated away.

She did not spare a glance or a thought for the corpse on the floor.


	25. Fourth year, part six

Year Four, Part Six

Ginny blinked awake, sighing and stretching her arms as she sat up in bed.

She paused mid-stretch, the sunlight streaming through the window glinting against the fresh tattoo on her arm.

She smiled, running her fingers gently along the borders of it, where her pale, freckled skin suddenly turned black.

Bellatrix snorted in her sleep, turning over and rubbing up against Ginny's thigh again.

Her smile feeling like it would tear her face, Ginny lay back down, cuddling up against Bellatrix and resting her head on the older witch's mop of curly hair.

She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of another body pressed up against hers so peacefully, Bellatrix's comforting presence calming her.

Her thoughts began to drift fuzzily, entering the strange, liminal state between wakefulness and sleep.

Whether dream or just hazy memory, the events of the previous night began to replay in her mind.

_'The acrid smell of burning flesh began to fade as the Dark Lord withdrew the tip of his wand, the charred patch of skin on her arm clearing up before her eyes and taking the form of the Dark Mark._

_Total exultation consumed her, a bestial triumph roaring through her veins._

_This was it. After all this time, finally, she was his for all the world to see._

_"Thank you, my lord," She whispered, raising her head and meeting his fiery gaze, "I will do you proud."_

_"Yes," he said, "You will. Go, celebrate. Enjoy yourself. You are one of us now."_

_Then she was swept away, a glass of wine thrust into her hand. She drained it with a laugh, and it was immediately replaced by another._

_All the Death Eaters crowded around, clapping her on the back or shaking her hand, offering congratulations with welcoming smiles that seemed as real as hers was._

_Even Mulciber seemed pleased, and at one point a laughing Pettigrew handed her another cup of wine._

_She'd heard about it a few days before, how the induction of a new member was always a cause for joy, but she'd never expected it to be this happy and carefree._

_Throughout it all, Bellatrix stood by her side with a hand around her waist, occasionally leaning over and whispering things in her ears that made her ears redden and her toes curl up._

_At some point, she and Bellatrix left the party, ending up alone in her bedroom with their bodies wrapped around each other and their lips glued together._

_Bellatrix's mouth left hers, latching onto her neck as her hands worked, pulling Ginny's robes off of her with a sound of fabric ripping._

_Gripping Ginny's bra tightly, Bellatrix pushed her roughly onto the bed, tearing the bra off of her as she slipped out of her own robes in one sinuous, graceful motion._

_Ginny tried to sit up, but a strong hand hit her chest, squeezing and twisting her nipple even as she was pushed back onto the bed._

_"Just relax," Bellatrix laughed, pulling her own underwear off and tossing them carelessly to the floor. "Let me take care of you."_

_Ginny caught a glimpse of a thick patch of dark hair at Bellatrix's crotch as she took a step closer toward the bed, kneading Ginny's breasts until without warning she dove onto her, making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a growl.  
_

_Their mouths met again, teeth gripping at Ginny's lip for a second as a hand snaked into her panties, dancing along her clit and probing the wetness at her entrance with infinite slowness._

_"B-Bella-" Ginny moaned, "Just-"_

_Bellatrix jerked her hand up suddenly, tearing Ginny's panties right off her and leaving long, deep scratches up her thighs._

_"Beg me," Bellatrix whispered, "Beg me, baby."_

_"Please, p-please, just-"_

_Her head darting down, Bellatrix bit into Ginny's shoulder, hard enough that Ginny could feel the skin breaking._

_"You want me to fuck you, don't you?"_

_The pain from her shoulder and thigh seemed to mingle with the pleasure and desperate need that roared through her like an all-consuming flame, obliterating all thought and leaving nothing but urgent sensation behind._

_Unthinking, Ginny raised her head, seizing one of Bellatrix's tits in her mouth, her tongue lashing out and flicking the nipple._

_Nails dug into her, leaving furrows in her back._

_"Beg me. You want me to fuck you, don't you?"_

_"Please, please, fuck me, please Bella, pl-"_

_Bellatrix's hand shot down, digging deep into Ginny and moving around while her thumb rubbed over Ginny's clit._

_Groaning, Ginny arched her back, riding Bellatrix's fingers as that incredible warmth arose, beginning around Bellatrix's hand and spreading out through her body._

_She was shaking, sweat dripping down her forehead, moaning out mingled pleas and Bellatrix's name in equal measure, her hips bucking and feet shaking madly._

_Teeth fixed themselves on her shoulder again, bright islands of pain in an ocean of bliss, pushing her over the edge into an all-consuming orgasm._

_Mind-numbingly pleasure enveloped her, the entirety of her body burning with it._

_Panting, it seemed as if every inch of her had become hyper-aware; her legs were trembling against the silk bed coverings, Bellatrix's knees trapping them in place. Her belly fluttered, that incredible heat continuing to grow within her until she felt as if she would explode with the wonder of it all._

_With a cry, she crested some hill that she hadn't even known was there, entering a state where nothing seemed to matter but the glorious sensation encompassing her whole being._

_Eventually, the pleasure faded to a dull hum and she fell back, gasping for air as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal and Bellatrix pulled her fingers out of Ginny._

_"I told you I'd take care of you," Bellatrix whispered, "now it's your turn."_

_Gripping Ginny by the shoulders, Bellatrix pulled her forward, twisting around and manoeuvring them until Ginny's face was inches from her crotch._

_"How do I-"_

_"Just use your tongue," Bellatrix whispered, "And your hands. Now, baby."_

_Still coasting on the waves of her orgasm, Ginny leaned forward, slipping her tongue between Bellatrix's lips and licking at the warm wetness._

_Moaning, Bellatrix began to rock back and forth, grinding along Ginny's mouth._

_The scent and taste of Bellatrix drove Ginny mad; again, thought vanished, instinct taking over and jamming her face forward, her tongue and mouth working furiously as her hands moved, caressing Bellatrix's things and roaming, stroking through the mound of hair and rubbing her clit._

_Ginny's jaw was just starting to ache when Bellatrix cried out, pushing her shaking hips forward and flooding Ginny's mouth and chin with her juices._

_Bellatrix slid off of her, coming to rest with her breasts pushing on Ginny's back and her leg over Ginny's._

_"You are incredible," she whispered, reaching over and flicking Ginny's nipple again. "My brilliant baby."_

_"I've never had anything like that," Ginny replied. "That was-"_

_"It will only get better," Bellatrix promised, shifting her head and dragging her teeth along Ginny's shoulder. Idly, she began to stroke Ginny's arm, tracing the outline of the Dark Mark with one nail that stopped just short of cutting into Ginny._

_"It will only get better. I love you, my sweetling. You're like the daughter I never had."'_

Something pulled at her hair, startling her awake.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

"G-good morning," she yawned, opening her eyes.

Bellatrix was sitting up in bed, a satisfied smile on her face as she tugged at Ginny's hair again, pulling her up.

"You look even more delectable than you did last night," she murmured, pulling Ginny close and nipping softly at the top of her ear. "I think I'll make you scream my name this time. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Fingers tightened around her tits, squeezing them and releasing, twisting at the nipples.

Heat rose in her belly, wanton desire wiping away her tiredness.

"Yes."

Bellatrix laughed, her smile turning positively cruel as she touched Ginny's thigh, pressing down hard on the long scratches her nails had left.

As Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak, a series of loud knocks sounded at the door.

Burning fury flickered across her face for an instant, before the smile replaced it again.

Making not a move to cover her and Ginny's nakedness, Bellatrix called: "Come in."

The door opened, and Narcissa Malfoy walked in, a supercilious look on her regal features.

"Good morning, Cissy," Bellatrix said, giving Ginny's nipple another flick. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Firstly," Narcissa drawled, eyes narrowing onto the blush spreading across Ginny's face. "It is already noon. Secondly, I came to give you those robes you requested, and to collect the letters you wanted delivered."

"You could have waited until we came down," Bellatrix said lightly.

"I would have," Narcissa replied, her voice suddenly frigid, "Had your brother-in-law not been delighted to tell me the most ridiculous piece of gossip. At least, I hoped it was ridiculous. Now I see that it is true, sickening though it may be."

"And what do you mean by that?"

If Narcissa's voice had been cold, Bellatrix's was ice. Ginny wouldn't have been surprised to see frost forming on the windows.

"Act on whatever perverted desires you have," Narcissa spat. "But do not force them upon a  _child!_ I would have assumed there were depths that even you wouldn't sink to."

"I didn't force her," Bellatrix laughed. "She is as willing as anyone ever has been."

"I'm not a child," Ginny said, the instant Bellatrix finished. "I'm fifteen in August!"

The moment the words left her lips, Ginny regretted them, realising how stupid they sounded and wishing she could pull them back.

Her cheeks began to burn as Narcissa turned a cool gaze on her, a single perfect eyebrow arching.

"Fifteen in August," she murmured. "Truly, you are ancient. I take it back, you are clearly old and wise enough to make decisions for yourself."

"The Dark Lord thinks that she is," Bellatrix said softly, gripping Ginny's arm and thrusting it forward. "And  _this_ says that she is. What do you care, anyway? Once upon a time, you'd have wanted to join us, not stand there with your self-righteous recriminations!"

"That was many years ago," Narcissa said, hints of a blush appearing on her porcelain cheeks. "I grew up. I have a child of my own, Bella! Perhaps if you did, you'd-"

Seeming to realize that she had gone too far, Narcissa stopped talking mid-sentence, her mouth forming a thin line.

"Get out," Bellatrix hissed.

"Bella, I'm s-"

"Get out, sister. And be thankful that you are my sister. GET OUT!"

"I gave the robes to the house-elf," Narcissa said quickly, taking a step toward the door. "But I need to take those letters."

Snarling, Bellatrix grabbed her wand from the bedside table, making Narcissa flinch as she waved it.

Two folded envelopes rose from the table by the window, flying over to Narcissa.

"GET OUT!"

Narcissa fled, snatching the letters from the air and giving a last, apologetic look as she did.

"Just shut up," Bellatrix spat, before Ginny even had a chance to say anything. "I don't want to hear it."

"I didn't say anything."

"Don't."

Sighing, Ginny lay back down, watching with a suddenly heavy heart as Bellatrix stood up and began to get dressed.

* * *

"So," Ron said, "What did Slughorn want?"

Harry shrugged, sliding into the seat between Ron and Hermione near the back of the Charms classroom.

Strangely enough, Flitwick wasn't there yet. Harry was sure that he would be more than a little bit late, after the way he'd had to run from the Potions dungeon a full fifteen minutes after class had finished.

"Not much," he said, "Just to tell me that he knew my mother, apparently she was one of his favourite students. I think he wanted to hear my side of the story too, he was dancing around last June a lot, and what happened with...with Ginny."

"Do you think he believes it?"

"I think so. Just the way he was talking-"

"I think he does," Hermione interrupted. "Professor Dumbledore chose him for a reason. Of course, he's a good teacher, but I'm sure that-"

Hermione cut off as the classroom door opened, but Flitwick was not alone.

McGonagall walked in with him, both of them wearing extremely grim expressions.

"Mr Weasley," McGonagall called, her stern voice tempered with a note of pity, "I'd like to talk with you outside, please."

Ron's hands shook as he stood up, his face paling rapidly even as his ears reddened.

Harry stood up a moment later, sharing an alarmed look with Hermione.

"Professor McGonagall, what-'"

"You as well, Potter. And you, Miss Granger."

Ron gave Harry a weak, sickly smile as they left the classroom, the sound of Flitwick telling everyone to quiet down echoing through the closed door.

The smile quickly faded, a terrified look crossing his suddenly wan face.

"Professor," Ron asked in a hoarse voice. "Wh-what's going on? Is-my family... what's going on?"

"We will take in my office," McGonagall said.

Harry's legs felt like lead, every step requiring almost superhuman effort.

He felt the need to say something, but nothing came to mind, and he was sure nothing would at least until they found out what was going on.

He was certain that it couldn't be good, whatever it was. An icy fist seemed to clench around his heart, a terrible suspicion rising in his mind.

Ron had said that the family was all on guard, that they were worried Ginny would have to prove her loyalty to Voldemort somehow.

 _'It can't be,'_ he told himself sternly,  _'They're_   _all under guard, it can't be!'_

But he knew it had to be something, something serious enough for McGonagall to pull Ron aside.

_'I have to say something! I can't just keep walking here like an idiot!'_

"Hey," he said, nodding to Ron in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it."

Ron opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it, nodding wordlessly with his face taking on a greenish hue.

McGonagall ushered them into her face, pausing before taking her seat to wave her wand and conjure up two chairs on either side of the one already in front of her desk.

"Tea?" She asked quietly as they sat. "Water, juice?"

They all shook their heads.

McGonagall's lips pursed into a thin line for a moment before she nodded, sighing softly.

"There is no easy way for me to say this: Ron, your brother Percy was found dead in his flat this morning, along with his flatmate."

The sudden rushing noise in Harry's ears almost blocked out Hermione's gasp. Ron's hand jerked convulsively, gripping at empty air for a moment as his face went slack.

"Per-Percy's dead? But-how?"

The pained, nearly blank shock in Ron's voice made Harry's insides turn to ice.

He flung an arm around Ron's shoulders, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

 _'Ginny,'_ he thought numbly,  _'God, it must have been Ginny.'_

"They seem to have been murdered," McGonagall said, confirming Harry's fears. "The investigation-"

"Was-," Ron interrupted, the words dying in his throat. He shook his head with a cough before continuing again. "Was it-do we know-was it  _her?_ "

"It is too early to tell. But it seems to be the most likely option."

Ron seemed to collapse into himself; he dropped down in his seat, sliding forward slightly, his face a perfect picture of miserable confusion.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione whispered. "We're here for you."

"Yeah," Harry said, clearing his throat. "We're with you, mate."

"I know this must be a terrible shock," McGonagall said, "But-"

"The-the twins," Ron said, "has someone told them? Where are they?"

"They were in Transfiguration class when I received word. They have already returned home."

"It-Percy? Are you sure? It can't be-he's really dead?"

Wincing, Harry tightened his grip around Ron.

"Ron," he heard himself say, before realising that he had no idea how to continue. "Ron, mate-"

"I'm afraid there is no doubt," McGonagall said sadly, her eyes distinctly damp. "It is true. Your parents are waiting for you. Mr Potter and Miss Granger will fetch anything you would like us to send."

"You-you two will come, right?" Ron asked wildly, looking at Harry and Hermione before turning his attention back to McGonagall. "They can, right? Easter's next week, they can leave early, can't they?"

"It has already been arranged with Sirius. They will be going to him tomorrow."

"We'll be there," Hermione whispered, "Ron, we'll be there."

Ron seemed to not hear her; he continued to stare at McGonagall, shaking his head softly.

"Come, Mr Weasley," McGonagall said, standing up and walking over to him. "Your parents are waiting. We'll be using the Floo."

Hurriedly, Harry stood up before Ron could leave and seized him in a hug.

Ron still wore that shell shocked look, even after Harry let go and Hermione jumped in to copy him.

"Potter, Granger, I will speak with you both later this evening."

"I'll-I'll see you guys," Ron muttered, before walking over to join McGonagall near the fireplace.

* * *

Harry's legs worked automatically once they left McGonagall's office, pulling him toward Gryffindor tower. He could hear other students calling to each other in the distance as they went to lunch, but food was the furthest thing possible on Harry's mind.

"He's going to be a wreck," Hermione whispered as they walked through the portrait hole.

Harry gave a start; it was the first time either of them had spoken since leaving McGonagall's office.

"He never got a chance to reconcile with Percy," Hermione continued, her voice thick and teary. "God, Harry. This is terrible."

"I need to talk to S-Snuffles," Harry whispered, looking around the Common Room. The room was mostly empty, with only a few seventh years sitting around.

Still, it was too full to contact Sirius from there.

Hermione nodded, teary-eyed.

"Ask him about tomorrow," she said, "I'm-I'm going to write to my parents."

As Harry started walking towards the staircase, a loud tapping sounded.

Turning, he saw a small tawny owl flapping its wings frantically outside the oval window, insistently pecking at the glass.

Angelina, who was sitting closest, hurried over and threw the window open.

The owl fluttered in and immediately made a beeline for Hermione.

That cold feeling of dread that he'd experienced when walking to McGonagall's office returned, a sensation of an oncoming catastrophe just lingering over his head and waiting to fall.

Hermione was obviously feeling the tension as much as Harry was; her fingers were trembling as she untied the envelope from the owl's outstretched leg.

She tore the envelope while opening it, and her face paled the instant she began to read, eyes widening madly and her legs beginning to shake worryingly.

_'Something's wrong, something else happened.'_

"Hermione, what-"

She shook her head, her throat working as if she was going to throw up, and suddenly fell back into the chair behind her.

Harry was at her side immediately, fear gripping him as tightly as when McGonagall had pulled Ron from the class.

"Hermione, what is it?"

Everyone was looking at them now, Angelina walking over with a concerned look.

"My-my parents-" Hermione whispered, her attention back on the letter.

Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed himself forward, dreading to see what had so upset Hermione.

 _"I liked the pictures your parents had of you on the mantelpiece. I killed them both, Mudblood,"_ the letter said, a jolt flying through Harry as the meaning of those stark words registered.

_"It was easy. Stupid Muggles, they had no way to fight back. I used the Cruciatus first. They both screamed and begged like animals, and your mother even pissed herself._

_They lived like animals, and they died like them too._

_They were animals, and now they're dead, and it's your fault._

_I held the wand, but it was you who killed them. You killed them when you made friends with Potter, Mudblood. It was your fault, and this is your punishment. This is what will happen to everyone who stands by his side._

_It's your fault, Mudblood."_

There was no signature, but it didn't need one. Harry had seen Ginny's handwriting too many times to not recognize it.

"Fuck," he whispered, "Hermione-"

Hermione made a noise deep in her throat, something that sounded like it could have been a cough.

Then she was bawling, her hands covering her face as her whole body shook.

"What happened?" Angelina asked, "Harry, what-'"

"Get McGonagall or-or someone," he snapped, "quickly!"

As Angelina ran for the portrait hole, he put his arm around Hermione, feeling like someone of Hagrid's strength had punched him in the belly.

 _'This is because of me,'_ he thought, hot tears starting to stream down his cheeks,  _'All of this is because of me.'_

* * *

"I believe that more of the Hit Wizards are now amenable to our goals, my lord," Lucius said. "Yaxley has been assisting me, and we have managed to ensure that several of those who we are certain of have been given potions and greater responsibilities. Of course, they are not entirely ours, but with Parker being made Captain, they will be far less of a threat."

After a moment, the Dark Lord nodded, and Lucius continued.

"So far, it appears that the Dementors are willing to serve you, my lord. However, they are still stubbornly negotiating their terms. They wish free reign, my lord."

"Tell them they can have it, but only in Muggle areas. And ensure they understand that they are to wait for my signal. What else?"

"Fenrir reports that an additional pack of wolves are listening to him more often. He believes that he will have them soon enough."

"Good. Tell me, Lucius. What of Potter?"

"Fudge is most upset that Potter's defence club hasn't yet been caught," Lucius said, "However, he did tell me that Madam Umbridge has been speaking to some of the students on the list. One of them has agreed to inform her when next they meet. Potter will be expelled, my lord. And Fudge believes that he will be able to use this to remove Dumbledore from the school as well."

Ginny smiled, resisting the urge to cackle.

When she'd told Lucius about the DA, he'd acted very condescendingly toward her, as if it was a matter of no consequence.

Since she'd killed Percy and the Muggles, however, her been treating her with a modicum of respect. Not quite as an equal, but Ginny thought Lucius Malfoy treated nobody like his equal.

But he didn't chuckle anymore, didn't give her that disdainful look.

That, she thought, was as good as she could hope for. At least until her information handed Potter to the Dark Lord on a silver platter.

"And the rumours?"

"I have dropped further hints to Fudge, my lord. He now believes completely that-"

Lucius glanced at her for the barest fraction of a second.

"That Ginny had been bullied by Potter, or perhaps was tossed aside in favour of the Lovegood girl, and that Potter's treatment of her caused her to snap. I believe we will see mention of this in the Daily Prophet, when the investigation is complete. I would not be surprised if that were to happen tomorrow already."

The Dark Lord nodded, turning to Ginny.

"Who else is close to Potter?"

"The rest of my family," she said quickly, "he views them as a second family. Besides them, Sirius Black, Lupin, and Hagrid."

"What of his roommates? Other school friends?"

"He is not close to any of them, my lord. Their deaths would still affect him, but not-"

"Your family is under guard, as is Lupin and the rest of the Order. Black is hiding beneath the Fidelius, and that oaf Hagrid is at Hogwarts. Who else?"

"I-no one that I can think of, my lord. I'm sorry. I know the Secret of their Headquarters, I could-"

"You would be captured. I will not throw away a useful asset."

Ginny stood a bit straighter, preening at the hidden compliment.

"You are certain that Potter will hand himself over?"

Ginny swallowed thickly, feeling horribly tense. She  _was_  sure of it, if there was anything she could be sure of with Harry.

"I am," she whispered. "He will, my lord. Especially once he's been expelled."

The Dark Lord tapped his armrest, hissing softly.

The great snake slithered forward, creeping up the legs of his chair like a vine, before coming to rest with its head in his lap.

"If you are right," he said, his voice a silk dagger, "you will be rewarded beyond words. If you are wrong, you will suffer my...displeasure. For your sake, think carefully. Are you certain the boy will hand himself over?"

"Once he knows that the people he cares about are suffering because of him, he will, my lord. Especially if he has been expelled from Hogwarts. As long as the Order doesn't stop him, he'll come to you. I'm sure of it."

"Ensure that the rumours make it into the newspaper," the Dark Lord ordered, his gaze burning into Lucius. "I want Potter to know despair. To know hatred from all sides. Do it, Lucius."

"As you wish, my lord."

"And I hope for your sake, you are correct." He said, turning to Ginny.

_'I am. I am. I hope I am.'_

* * *

"You made the paper, Weasley," Dolohov said, nodding to her as she walked into the kitchen. "First time?"

She yawned, absently rubbing her ass.

It still felt tender and sore. She'd checked, before getting dressed and coming downstairs, and a perfect impression of Bellatrix's teeth was still there, indenting the soft flesh.

Since the night she had been Marked, Bellatrix had been insatiable, dragging her to the bedroom they now shared at least once a day, not to mention their nightly activities.

Bella had been rougher as well, almost as if their first night had been a warm-up.

Strangely enough, Ginny found herself enjoying it.

In fact, she had enjoyed Bellatrix's scratches and bites almost as much as she had enjoyed her tongue.

"I was in the paper after I killed Luna. When I tried to kidnap Potter."

Dolohov smirked, showing her the front page for a moment.

Two large photos hung beneath the headline; one was of her with a wide smile while the other showed her family wearing black robes and sombre, tearful expressions, standing in front of an open grave with a plain wooden coffin in it.

"You've got a five thousand galleon bounty on you," he said with a wink. "Not bad, but not quite as much as a dangerous Azkaban escapee."

"Give me a bit of time," she said with a laugh. "I bet I'll have a higher bounty than any of you in a year. If not sooner."

"You should read this article," he said, tapping it a few times with his spoon. "It's actually pretty funny. Apparently, you were in a love triangle with Potter and the Lovegood girl. Well, they don't come right out and say it, but it's heavily implied. Was that Lucius' work?"

"Yeah."

She forced a laugh, ignoring the thought of everyone she knew reading those lies about her.

"It's good. He might be incredibly full of himself, but he knows what he's doing."

"It definitely seems like it."

Chuckling, Dolohov folded the paper and held it out for her.

"They've also got some quotes from a so-called Healer specialising in emotional trauma. I think you'll enjoy those parts. Some of their other stuff isn't too far off the mark. They think you've fallen in with us, although they're very unclear about how you managed that."

"Thanks," she said, taking the paper from his outstretched hand. "Could use a laugh."

"No problem. Honestly, I'm impressed. Not everyone could do what you did."

"It was easy, none of them were expecting-"

Dolohov shook his head, his features sunny and warm.

"I meant killing your own brother. Most people wouldn't be able to do it. You really are Bellatrix's protégé, aren't you?"

She smiled, trying not to show how happy she felt right then.

"I'm trying."

* * *

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, her heartbeat slowing to its usual rate.

Bellatrix coiled over her, legs tangled up with Ginny's.

With a deep-belly laugh, she nipped at Ginny's ear, leaving small punctures in her lobe and a few drops of blood dripping down.

"I love you, baby girl." She said, slipping over to lie beside Ginny, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"I love you too," Ginny said, shifting over until Bellatrix's hands were resting on the swell of her breasts.

"When we don't need to hide anymore," Bellatrix whispered, "I'm going to take you on a hunting trip. We'll get a troupe of muggles and release them into the forest, and see who can catch more. And I'll finally be able to show you how to carry out an interrogation. Maybe I'll even get that boy's parents, and we can make them watch until it's time to play with them. Would you like that?"

Bellatrix's nails drew circles around Ginny's nipples, making Ginny's heart speed up again.

"I think I would l-like that," she answered, inhaling sharply as a nail cut deeper than they had until then.

"Good. That's a good girl."

She lay there for a few minutes, only the sound of their breathing and her occasional gasp breaking the silence.

"I've been thinking about cutting my hair," Ginny said suddenly, "or dying it black."

Bellatrix's hands stopped their motion, the nails suddenly sharp against her skin.

"Why would you do something so immensely idiotic? She hissed, reaching out and seizing a fistful of Ginny's hair and tugging it back sharply.

"I think-"

"I like your hair the way it is," she said, pulling at it again. "And I don't let you change it. How dare you?!"

"I just-I-it was just an idea!"

"It was a terrible idea! Why would you want to do that? Your hair is perfect!"

Breathing deeply, Ginny banished the instinctive fear Bellatrix's tone had aroused, forcing her mind to work.

"I don't know who I am anymore," she whispered, "I'm not the same girl I was. I'm not-I don't know. I killed my brother. My brother. They were-the pictures in the paper, they spoke to them at the funeral-they're not my family anymore! I'm not-I don't know who I am!"

Bellatrix laughed softly, releasing Ginny's hair and resuming her stroking.

"Poor baby," she said, kissing Ginny gently on the neck, "You should have said that before. You  _are_  who you are. It doesn't matter who your family are. You still are who you are. You're not really someone new. You've just finally shown who you really are. You still are the same girl. You're just not hiding anymore."

"I know. But-maybe I should change my name. To really be someone new. To show that I'm not that hiding anymore."

Bellatrix's hands shifted, dropping over to Ginny's arm and beginning to stroke around the edges of the Dark Mark.

"This shows who you are," she whispered. "More truly than something as meaningless as a name. You are Ginny Weasley. Ginevra, if you're feeling pompous. You are one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers. That is who you are. The colour and length of your hair mean nothing about who you are. Your name shows nothing about who you are. Making small, stupid changes will not change anything about who you are."

"I know that. I just-I don't feel it."

"Then feel it! You are Ginny Weasley and it is time for you to show the world who Ginny Weasley really is."

"I-I will."

"Good. One day, they'll fear your name as much as they fear mine. I promise."

"They will." Ginny agreed, a smile tugging at her lips.


	26. Fourth year, part seven

Year Four, Part Seven

"It's very odd," Bellatrix said, wearing a small frown, "I would never have thought a memory to be capable of possessing people, or really of doing anything besides showing itself."

Ginny shrugged, listening with half an ear as she pulled on a pair of robes and glanced at herself in the mirror.

They'd woken up at least an hour previously, but for some reason, Bellatrix had wanted to hear about Ginny's experiences with the Dark Lord's diary.

Ginny didn't exactly mind talking about it; in fact, she quite enjoyed delving back into that time and remembering how incredible everything had been.

Still, this was at least the fifth time they'd discussed it, with Bellatrix asking more and more intricate questions each time, questions about how the memory of the Dark Lord had acted, what he'd said and done.

"It's just not how they work," Bella continued. "You can copy a memory and keep it safe somewhere, but it's really only useful if you're afraid of being Obliviated or for blackmail. It can't do anything, it's just a memory."

"Yeah," Ginny said, tugging at an errant knot in her hair. "But it's the Dark Lord. I'm sure he could make it do something different."

"But to give a memory sentience and independence, I would think it's impossible. It just...unless…"

Bellatrix trailed off, her voice slightly trembling on the last word.

Ginny turned, a question dying in her throat at the sight of Bella's face.

She was staring wide-eyed into space, her mouth working soundlessly, a look of exultant understanding brightening up her features.

"It must be," she said, her voice hushed and reverent. "And...The cup too. I-he trusted me with it. He trusted  _me!_ "

"What? Bella, what are you talking-"

Bellatrix shook her head, her eyes losing the mistiness that had snuck over them.

"If he wanted us to know," she said, still looking amazed and overjoyed. "He would have told us."

"But-"

"Knowledge can be dangerous, my pretty little toy. I would rather not see you die for knowing too much. Come. Let's go duel a bit."

* * *

Harry lay face down on the bed, anguished guilt twisting his innards around.

Only two days previously, he'd been sure that nothing he could ever experience would be as bad as Percy's funeral was. Arthur had looked like he wasn't quite sure what was going on, and Molly had been sobbing endlessly, while Ron and his brothers all stood around with grim, sombre expressions.

Fudge had been there as well, with a whole entourage including Umbridge, and the tension between them, the Hogwarts contingent, and the Weasleys had been thick and palpable.

It had been beyond terrible, and Harry knew that the sound of Molly's grieving sobs as Percy's coffin was lowered into the ground would stick with him forever.

But in some ways, Hermione's parents' funeral had been worse.

At least the Weasleys had each other.

Harry hadn't realised until her parents' funeral just how small Hermione's family was.

Her uncle had come, and so had a great-aunt and a few cousins, none of whom seemed particularly close to Hermione.

Oh, there'd been other people there as well; their whole year from Gryffindor and a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well, much of the Hogwarts staff and a few Order members too.

The Weasleys had all arrived a few minutes before it began, with Molly immediately beginning to bawl and seizing Hermione in a tight embrace.

Viktor Krum had been there as well. He'd mostly stood on the side, but Harry had distinctly heard him threaten to hex the reporter who tried to accost him when he made his way to Hermione.

The Muggles present had seemed very uncomfortable with the wizards and witches, staring at their strange dress as if their eyes would pop out.

The funeral hadn't exactly been quiet. Harry guessed there were at least a hundred people there.

But Hermione had seemed so alone.

He and Ron, Harry realized, were basically all Hermione had. She wasn't really close to anyone else at school, and it seemed like her relationship with her roommates was perfunctory at best.

All she really had was a friend who had gotten her parents killed and another who was himself grieving.

She hadn't said anything to him about the letter, so far. He knew that it must have been gnawing at her, but she'd pretended not to hate him, actually returning his hug when he'd gone up to her after her failed attempt at reading a poem.

That had been bad, the way she'd broken down after barely a few words.

The rest of the time, she'd been standing around looking lost and forlorn, but during that poem, her sorrow had come bursting to the surface.

Someone knocked on the door.

Sighing, Harry moved his face out of his pillow enough that he could call: "Come in."

Sirius entered the room gingerly, walking softly over to the bed and sitting by Harry's feet.

"How're you doing?" He asked.

Snorting, Harry sat up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"Pretty shit, to be honest. How should I be doing?"

"That's to be expected," Sirius answered with a shrug. "Seeing your friends hurting like that...it's always tough. But you can't blame yourself, Harry. You can't feel guilty about this."

Something twisted inside him, a pit of acidic pain opening in his belly.

"She said it was because of me. That's what she said. To punish Hermione for being my friend. I think she told the Weasleys something similar. How the absolute fuck should I not feel guilty? It's my fault, Sirius!"

"No it isn't," Sirius said, quiet determination filling his voice.

"Yes it-"

"It isn't. Voldemort makes his Death Eaters prove themselves before they're really allowed to join. They need to show that nothing comes before him. My family-they were safe, they were practically Death Eaters themselves. But Regulus tried to kill me twice, when we ended up at the same place in a fight."

"She specifically targeted Hermione's parents-"

"You didn't. She did. You can't be blamed for what she did."

Harry shook his head dumbly, trying to find words to explain it.

"Harry," Sirius said, reaching out and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You did nothing wrong. You had nothing but good intentions when you and Ron became friends with Hermione. You had no way of knowing that Ginny was anything other than what she seemed. You did nothing wrong."

"It's still because of me!"

Sirius looked at him for a long moment, dark eyes growing intense.

"Do you blame me for your parents' deaths?" He asked quietly.

Harry floundered, shaking his head wildly and stammering out a "no."

"So why do you blame yourself for what Ginny did?"

"Because-"

"It's almost exactly the same," Sirius interrupted, standing up and beginning to pace. "Except that what I did was more direct. Harry, I've spent fourteen years blaming myself for what someone else did. It's not worth it. Trust me on this."

"It's different."

"No it isn't," Sirius said, coming to a stop in front of Harry. "It's just easier to blame yourself, and it feels terrible to know that your friends are being targeted. You've done nothing to deserve it. And you need to stop thinking that you have. Otherwise...well, it doesn't lead anywhere good."

"Sirius-"

"Just think about it. And remember that your friends need you."

With that, Sirius left the room.

* * *

"What was that about Lupin?"

The hubbub of conversation fell away at her question, the small crowd before her opening to let her in and reveal the man at the centre of them all.

He was slightly taller than average, wearing ripped robes that were still tight on him.

He smiled when she walked up to him, revealing yellowish brown teeth that poked through his lips.

His fingernails, she noticed, looked almost claw-like, the nails long and disgustingly dirty.

 _'It's that werewolf,'_ she realized,  _'Greyback.'_

"You're a pretty one," he said, in a low, almost hoarse voice, "Who do you belong to?"

Mulciber's harsh laugh grated against her ears, while the other Death Eaters chuckled.

"I don't belong to anyone," she growled, pushing back her sleeve and exposing the Mark on her forearm. "Now, what were you saying about Lupin?"

He sneered down at her, seeming to grow taller.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

"I would suggest answering the question, wolf."

Ginny turned her head, a small smile pulling at her cheeks as Bellatrix walked over. Bellatrix seized her around the waist, lowered her head, and locked lips with Ginny.

When they separated, Bellatrix turned back to Greyback, her face growing hard.

"Answer the question. Now."

Greyback knuckled his forehead, looking down.

"Sorry, mistress. I didn't realize she's yours. I-"

"Answer the question."

"I-I might have a way of capturing Lupin," Greyback said quickly, "the Dark Lord, he-"

"How could you capture him?" Ginny interrupted.

Greyback's shoulders stiffened for a moment, a flash of rage flickering over the visible parts of his face.

_'How dare he?! He should answer me as quickly as her!'_

"He's been trying to convince some of the loners that they should join Dumbledore's group. He tried to get Everett Plink, but Ev's one of my pack. I told everyone to act natural around him, and Ev's arranged to meet with Lupin in the next few days. We'll be waiting, and we'll get him."

"I hope you do," Bellatrix said, "He hasn't been too satisfied with you lately, wolf. You haven't kept half the promises you've made to him."

"I'll keep this one. Lupin's as good as in your hands already."

* * *

"How do I make them respect me?"

Bellatrix laughed lightly, twining a strand of Ginny's hair around her fingers and pulling at it, tugging Ginny's head until it was resting on her knees.

"They need to learn to fear you," she said, staring down into Ginny's eyes. "Fear is the most honest form of respect. Make them fear you."

"And how do I even do that? Should I have cursed Greyback or something?"

The fingers in her hair tensed, giving another harsh tug and making her gasp.

"If you have to curse him, you've already lost."

"So then what-"

Bellatrix moved suddenly, pulling her legs from beneath Ginny and lithely twisting so that her knees were straddling Ginny's waist.

"You show them how strong you are," she purred. "You play with muggles and show them how much you enjoy it. You make sure that you're high enough in the Dark Lord's favour to kill any of them without consequence, and you make sure that they know it. You practice duelling with them, and make sure they see how you win every single time."

"But I can't beat them!"

"Not yet. But soon, soon you'll be better than all of them."

"When? I haven't even beaten you once yet! They all look at me like I'm a child!"

She clamped her mouth shut, silencing the rest of her whine before it could turn into a full-blown tantrum.

 _'Way to go,'_ she thought bitterly.  _'Now she'll think I'm just a spoiled brat.'_

Bellatrix, however, just smiled, beginning to stroke Ginny's cheek.

"Be patient. You're improving, and before you know it you'll be good enough. More importantly, before you know it we won't have to hide anymore. You'll be able to show them what you're capable of, and they'll see how you treat the enemy."

Bellatrix's head snapped down, the movement almost too fast to track. A searing pain spread out from Ginny's shoulder, the familiar sensation of Bellatrix's teeth on her skin kindling a lustful warmth in her groin.

Groaning, she arched her back, trying to push her hips up.

Bellatrix's hand flashed, whipping harshly across Ginny's face.

Before the pain of her slap had time to do more than register, Bellatrix had moved her head again, seizing Ginny's lips with her own.

"It won't happen overnight," she said, releasing Ginny from the kiss, her nails digging into the teeth marks she'd left on Ginny's shoulder and eliciting a moan. "It won't be immediate, or even quick for that matter. But they will come to fear you. And in the meantime, they know that you belong to me. They'll learn to fear you for you, and in the meantime they'll fear you for me."

Ginny writhed, Bellatrix's hand scratching its way down her torso, a tingling, deliciously burning sensation flowing from wherever her fingers touched.

"Tomorrow," Bellatrix whispered, "We'll start on your non-verbal casting."

* * *

Hermione dropped into the chair opposite him with a sigh, her hands shielding her face for a moment as they ran through her bushy hair.

When she pulled them away, her face was blank again, the tears that had hung in the corners of her eyes gone.

She looked beyond exhausted, large, dark hollows under red-rimmed eyes, fatigue written in every line on her face.

"I need you to stop avoiding me and Ron," she said suddenly, her lower lip wobbling dangerously. "I know that you feel guilty, but-"

"Hermione-"

"Shut up, Harry." She said, her voice trembling with, he realized with a jolt, barely compressed rage. "I don't blame you. I know you saw her letter, and I know you think I do, but I don't. I don't regret becoming friends with you. The Weasleys don't regret practically adopting you. None of us blame you."

"You-"

"I said shut up," she snarled, putting her palms on the table and pushing herself into a standing position. "It's not fair, Harry. We're your friends, and we've stood beside you no matter what was happening. It's not fair for you to just...abandon us when we need you."

"I'm not! I just-"

"You've barely answered our owls. I know that when I'm talking to you, you don't say more than a few sentences, and Ron says you're the same with him. Don't you think Ron wants his best friend? Don't you think I do? Just stop feeling so bad for yourself, and be there for us!"

"Hermione-"

"No," she said, "Listen to me. I don't blame you. Can you get that through your thick skull? We don't blame you. I blame Ginny, and V-Voldemort, and the rest of them, but I don't blame you. If you go on with this-this guilt fest, I'm going to hex you."

"Ginny said-"

"Ginny wrote exactly what she knew would hurt you," Hermione said with a sniff. "And one day, I'm going to kill her for what she did. But I need you, Harry. I lost my parents, Ron lost his brother. We don't want to lose our friend too."

Harry winced, his hand automatically rising and rubbing away the tears in his eyes.

"I know it's not my fault," he said hoarsely. "But-but that doesn't stop it from feeling like it is."

"Harry," Hermione said, dropping back into her chair. "I know it's hard. But it's harder for us. And we'd really appreciate it if you didn't forget that."

Harry winced again, feeling almost like he'd been punched.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Really, I am. I've been a terrible friend."

"Yes," she said with a nod. "You have. But it's alright. You just need to know not to repeat it in the future. You're not going to be avoiding us anymore, Harry. We won't let you."

* * *

"You know the theory of non-verbal casting," Bellatrix said, "and you've been doing Occlumency for long enough that you've certainly trained your mind. Now, we just need to put those pieces together and make it work. You haven't managed to cast any spell silently yet, have you?"

"No," Ginny said. "But I came close with Lumos."

"You just haven't had the right motivation," Bellatrix mused. "Do not attempt to block this. Silencio!"

Ginny felt the spell settling in on her and shifted her weight, the muddy ground soft between her boots.

"Good. Now, I'm going to start gently, with Disarmers and the like. After that, I'll move to Bludgeoning Hexes. Then Cutting Curses. Then I'll probably break one of your limbs. Then the Cruciatus as a punishment. After that, I'll heal you, and we'll start again. All you need is to cast one shield, or any other spell that would help in a fight. Just one, and we'll take a break. Otherwise, we'll keep going until you do. Understand?"

Nodding, Ginny gripped her wand tightly, her heart beginning to pound.

She emptied her mind, focusing on nothing but the Shield Charm she would soon cast.

"On three. One, two, three. Expelliarmus!"

* * *

Ginny shivered, ignoring the desire to rub her arm. The blood was running down in a solid stream, staining her fingertips before dropping to the ground.

They'd been out there for what seemed like hours, with Bellatrix casting spell after spell at her while Ginny stood there like an idiotic statue, failing to cast so much as a simple shield charm without speaking.

The wind howled, the old trees creaking as they shook under its force.

"Last time before the Cruciatus," Bellatrix yelled "I'm starting to think you want me to hurt you. I thought you were better than this."

Ginny blushed, hot shame joining the dozens of other complaints her body was registering.

_'If I want their respect, I need to earn it. I need to do this.'_

Gritting her teeth, she clasped her wand, the blood making it slick in her grip.

"Diffindo!"

_'Protego!'_

The bluish, translucent haze of a Shield Charm appeared in the air before her, yellow lines shooting across it like lightning where Bellatrix's curse had obviously hit.

Ginny's jaw dropped, the pain and embarrassment vanishing as elated triumph took their place.

_'YES! I DID IT!'_

"Well done!" Bellatrix called, bounding over to her with a sunny grin. "Finally, you managed! Well done!"

She tapped Ginny with her wand, removing the Silencing Charm just as Ginny threw her arms around her.

"I did it!" Ginny squealed, hugging Bellatrix to her. "I did it!"

"Yes, yes. You did it. And now that you've done it once, you should find it easier in the future."

Before she'd even finished talking, Bellatrix seized Ginny's arm, pushing it up.

She dipped her head, her tongue lashing out and running across the deep cut, lapping at the drying blood like a cat with a bowl of milk.

"You were wonderful," she whispered, "and now, I think it's time for your reward. Let's go to bed."

* * *

Ginny walked into the lounge, biting into the apple she'd grabbed on the way and paging through the book she brought with her.

She was about to drop into her favourite armchair, having just found the chapter explaining the theory of non-verbal casting, when a loud sniff interrupted her.

Dropping the book and fruit, she spun, grabbing for her wand and drawing it even as she recognized the woman behind her.

"Sorry," she muttered, lowering her wand and bending down for the book. "I didn't see you there."

Narcissa Malfoy sniffed again, rubbing at the corners of her eyes.

She looked like a woman who was badly trying to keep herself composed, even though she clearly wanted nothing more than to burst out crying.

"It is no matter," she said, surprising Ginny with the evenness of her voice. "I had wished to speak with you. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Narcissa shut the door as she entered, and walked over to the nearest armchair before sitting in it.

She sat primly, staring at Ginny for a long while with her hands folded in her lap before she began to talk.

When she did, her voice had the barest hint of a hitch in it.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what Lucius did. With that diary. It was not right. I do not believe he has ever apologized, but he should have."

"It's fine," she said, waving her hand flippantly. She'd hated Lucius for it, once upon a time, but hadn't actually felt that for a very long time. If anything, she was grateful to him.

If not for the diary, she'd never have seen the truth.

Narcissa's eyes seemed to hone in on Ginny, boring into her.

"Nevertheless, you have my apologies. I have a-a favour to ask of you. You have the Dark Lord's favour and I-"

Narcissa stopped, her words catching in her throat, and pulled an elegantly laced handkerchief from her pocket which she used to dab at her eyes.

"The Dark Lord has-has ordered us to bring Draco to him," she said in a rush, sounding an inch away from tears. "He-we do not know why. Have you heard anything about this?"

"No idea," Ginny said, shifting uncomfortably. Merlin, but this was awkward. "Maybe he wants Draco to join, or to spy on Hogwarts?"

A sob wrenched its way from Narcissa, her face momentarily twisting into an image of pure misery.

She composed herself remarkably quick though, her normal regal expression returning in seconds.

"I-I am afraid that-that he wishes to use Draco to punish Lucius. If that is so, and you have a chance to intervene on my behalf…Please, I will forever be in your debt. Anything you want, anything, just please...do what you can to protect my son."

For a moment, Ginny just sat there, shocked that Narcissa was willing to bare herself so bluntly.

And that apparently, Ginny was known to have the Dark Lord's favour to such an extent.

_'She must really love him. It's got to be incredibly embarrassing for her.'_

"I'll do what I can," she said carefully, after thinking about it for a few minutes. She certainly wouldn't put herself in danger, or anything like that, but if she had the chance, it would definitely be worth having the Malfoys in her debt. "If I have the chance, I'll try."

"I can ask you no more than that," Narcissa said with a sigh, standing up. "Thank you."

Ginny nodded, opening the book and beginning to leaf through it again.

"I-I must ask you something else."

Ginny looked up, stifling a sigh. She really wanted to read that chapter again before her next duel with Bellatrix.

Narcissa seemed to be turning the words over, her mouth pressed into an absurdly thin line.

"Your relationship with Bellatrix. Did you truly enter it of your own free will?"

"Yes. I wasn't lying, the other day."

"I apologize. It is merely...I feel somewhat responsible for my sister's actions. Especially with regards to how they affect a child. If you ever feel unsafe with her, if you ever feel like she is forcing you to act in ways you do not enjoy, please, let me know."

Grinning, Ginny shook her head and told the absolute truth.

"I feel safer with her than I do with anyone else."

* * *

The compartment door opened, Ron and Hermione walking in with furious expressions, Hermione actually looking like she was ready to throw someone bodily off of the train.

Besides him, the compartment was empty. Barely anyone had tried to join when they saw him sitting there, and the few that had, most of whom were members of the DA, hurriedly left when he told them that Ron and Hermione would be coming back after their patrol.

"I think I might actually murder Malfoy," Ron said, dropping onto a seat and grabbing one of the chocolate frogs Harry had brought from the trolley.

"God, what did he do now?"

Hermione shook her head, a fire burning in her eyes that Harry had last seen when she'd berated him for avoiding the two of them.

Things were still slightly awkward between them, but their relationship seemed almost like it had been before Ginny's betrayal. The last few days of the break hadn't been enough to set everything right, of course, but they had been enough to make the three of them comfortable with each other again.

Spending time at the Burrow, strangely enough, had proved to be as helpful as anything else.

Obviously, it had been sad and depressing, but simply seeing how the Weasleys still accepted him, still treated him like part of the family. Well, it had really drummed it in that they didn't blame him.

"I'd rather not think about what he had to say," Hermione said, her hands now opening and closing restlessly. "I did want to discuss the DA with you, though."

"We agreed we're carrying it on," Harry said nervously, feeling like another Hermione lecture was incoming. "And we said we'd have the first meeting of term tomorrow night."

"I meant, I wanted to discuss the curriculum with you."

Harry shared a glance with Ron, both of them rolling their eyes.

"I think," Hermione continued breathlessly, "That we need to focus on, well... fighting. What we've been doing, it's wonderful, but it's not enough. You're teaching us how to survive, Harry. We need to learn how to win."

Ron looked thoughtful, Harry noticed, biting his lip in the way he usually did during a chess game.

"Uh, Hermione, I'm teaching the DA the spells I know. I'm teaching what's kept me alive."

"I know," she quickly said, "And it really is good. It could definitely save lives. But if we're fighting against-against Death Eaters, we're going to need more."

"You're not talking about the type of spells we would learn at school," Ron asked quietly. "Are you?"

"No. I think-even if it means the Dark Arts, we need-"

"I don't exactly know any of that stuff," Harry interrupted. "And as far as I know, you don't either."

Pink spots bloomed on Hermione's cheeks as she met his gaze, her throat working.

"I don't. But I'm pretty sure the Room of Requirement will give us whatever books we need. I don't mean that we start learning the worst curses out there. Just that we find something to even the playing field a little bit."

"I'm in," Ron said simply, his jaw clenched.

"I can't see us whipping that out at the next meeting," Harry said slowly. "And I don't-I don't want to touch any more of the Dark Arts than we need to. But you're right, we need something. The Death Eaters would walk all over us otherwise."

"We'll just learn some curses, spells more potent than what we usually use. Counter curses too, of course."

"And I don't want this to be for the whole DA," Harry said. "I think just the three of us for now."

"Definitely not," Ron said with a chuckle. "Remember how Smith messed up his Stunner? Imagine if that was something serious."

"Just us three for now," Hermione said with a nod. "Maybe we should just hang around in the Room after the meeting, take it from there."

"Sounds good."

* * *

"It seems that Draco has been tasked with keeping us informed about what happens at Hogwarts," Bellatrix said, conjuring a fine armchair with a wordless wave of her wand. "But Narcissa has reason to worry. The Dark Lord made it clear to Lucius that if he disappoints him again, then Draco will be punished."

Another wave of her wand, and a chair appeared for Ginny beside her own.

Gratefully, Ginny sank into it, relishing the chance to relax her muscles.

It was an unseasonably warm, sunny day, the crisp scent of winter having somehow vanished overnight.

As such, Bellatrix had dragged Ginny outside as soon as she was awake. They'd then spent over three hours duelling, interspaced with periods of the Silencing Charm being placed on her while she struggled to cast nonverbally.

Quite frankly, Ginny was ready to go back to sleep, with her wand arm and both legs feeling like lead weights were attached to them.

"If he does decide to punish Draco," Ginny asked. "Do you think there'd be any point in me asking for mercy?"

Bellatrix cocked her head to one side, absently reaching out and stroking Ginny's cheek.

"Maybe. He does like you. You were possessed by his...memory, after all. Maybe that's why you're so talented."

"Do you really think I am?"

Bellatrix chuckled, her eyes not leaving Ginny's even as she nodded.

"You have a flair for it. You take to new spells easily enough, and you manage most of them. You will be great, my sweet little pet. I won't let you be anything else."

Her heart swelling with pride, Ginny smiled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Bellatrix's cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured.

* * *

The all-encompassing light faded, solid ground appearing under his feet as suddenly as it had vanished in the first place.

Stumbling forward, his shin collided with what felt like the edge of a table, making him drop to his knees with those horrendously bright spots of reddish-gold light dancing before his eyes.

"Dumbledore?  _Harry?!_  What's going on?"

Harry closed his eyes shut, shaking his head and trying to clear the streamers from his vision.

Apparently, Dumbledore had gotten Fawkes to bring them to Grimmauld place, escaping from right beneath Fudge's nose.

Strong arms seized him, pulling him to his feet as he opened his eyes again, Sirius' face swimming into clarity.

"I'm ok," he started, "Sirius, I'm-"

"Harry-"

"He has been expelled, Sirius," Dumbledore said quickly. "But we escaped before they could seize and destroy his wand."

"Expelled! What-"

"There is no time," Dumbledore interrupted, "Harry will tell you exactly what happened. For now, he will be staying here. I must go, there are urgent matters for me to attend to before the Ministry can act, but I will return. Harry,"

Harry turned his head, meeting Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze for the first time all year.

"Listen to me," Dumbledore said, "You need to stay here. You need to keep yourself safe. Practice your Occlumency. And I promise, Harry, I will explain everything soon."

Harry opened his mouth, desperate to say something, to ask for an explanation now, to apologize, but to say  _something._

As he was about to speak, however, he felt that familiar, snake-like urge to lash out and bite, to sink his fangs into Dumbledore's throat.

Sickened, he nodded, dropping his gaze.

"Albus-"

A loud crack sounded, announcing that Dumbledore had left.

"Harry," Sirius said in a strangled voice, sounding almost as shaken as Harry felt. "What happened? Merlin, what happened?"

"We got caught," Harry said, dropping into the couch behind him, the adrenaline still running through him making his hands shake as he lifted them to run through his hair. "The DA. Umbridge caught us."

"Slow down," Sirius said, "start from the beginning."

Sirius sat down, reaching out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder as he started to talk.

"We had a meeting tonight. We were almost finished, when Dobby arrived. I told you about Dobby, right?"

At Sirius' nod, Harry continued.

"He was acting like he was disobeying orders, punching himself in the face and all that. But he gave enough hints for us to figure it out. Umbridge was coming. So we all ran."

He paused, for a moment feeling that overwhelming panicked stress he'd experienced when he finally worked out Dobby's message.

"But it was too late. She was already arriving, with Filch and a bunch of Slytherins. They'd blocked off the corridor. She made me go with her to Dumbledore's office."

"What about the others?"

"She just told them to wait for her. It sounded-from what she said later, it sounded like they were just going to get detentions."

Sirius nodded, the candlelight turning his grim expression even harsher.

"Fudge was there, in Dumbledore's office. With a bunch of Aurors. Dumbledore and McGonagall were there too. Umbridge, she told them about the DA. They knew about us for ages, but they never knew when we were meeting or who exactly was in it. Until tonight."

"How did they know beforehand?" Sirius asked, holding up a hand for Harry to pause.

"Someone in the Hog's Head heard us," Harry said. "But they said-Fudge heard from some anonymous source that we were continuing. It must have been Ginny, they knew who was in it. And Umbridge got the names, and managed to convince this one girl to tell her when we next met."

Sirius growled softly, his hand momentarily tightening on Harry's shoulder.

"Dumbledore tried to talk Fudge and Umbridge out of it, but they didn't listen. They had a signed expulsion form, and Fudge told me to hand over my wand. I wasn't going to-"

"Good,"

"And one of the Aurors started walking towards me. Dawlish, I think. And then Dumbledore did…"

"What?"

"Some spell," Harry said, shaking his head. "I've never seen anything like it before. It was like this bright light that shot around the room and knocked everyone except me and McGonagall out. It was so fast I could barely see it, and louder than-well, louder than anything I've heard before."

Sirius nodded slowly, but if he was surprised or impressed, he didn't show it.

"Dumbledore said something to McGonagall, I couldn't hear what, and then he grabbed my hand and whistled. I saw Fawkes, his Phoenix, just for a second and then-then we were here."

Harry fell silent, feeling suddenly exhausted and very, very cold.

It was starting to settle in on him, an icy, lonely feeling appearing in his stomach.

He'd been expelled from Hogwarts. After everything, he'd actually been expelled.

Expelled, and with the way he and Dumbledore had escaped Fudge and those Aurors, he was probably wanted too.

He couldn't help the tears that appeared in his eyes, the thick frustrated, furious sorrow that seemed to coat him.

He'd been expelled from Hogwarts, and everything suddenly seemed gloomier than ever before.


	27. Fourth year, part eight

Year Four, Part Eight

"It appears the boy is hiding in their headquarters," the Dark Lord said, hands curling around the arms of his chair.

Ginny half expected to see wisps of smoke rising from the places where his skin touched the wood.

"I have not been able to ascertain-"

"Of course you haven't, Lucius," came the hissed reply, cutting Lucius off mid-sentence and making him look to the floor. "You seem to be growing more incompetent by the day. If you continue to do so, I will no longer have any reason to keep you around."

"My lord! I have-"

"I do not care how many of our associates you have placed in the Ministry," the Dark Lord interrupted again. "I do not care which laws you have passed. I have told you, Lucius. I want Potter. Another time, I would praise you for your successes. Another time, I would thank you for your work. But I have told you that Potter is the priority for now. All the more so since your other attempts to gain me the prophecy have failed so spectacularly."

"My lord, as soon as the Ministry find Potter, I will know! We will be able to capture him before-"

"Dumbledore is not a fool. With the Ministry searching for him, hiding Potter anywhere other than their extremely protected Headquarters would be a foolish move. Potter is there. And between the Fidelius and the other enchantments, we cannot reach him."

Ginny kept her sigh internal, forcing the sadness which tried to show itself to remain hidden.

She had been beyond exuberant, when word of Harry's expulsion had reached them a few hours previously.

Finally, her information about the DA had come in useful. Not only that, but Dumbledore had been forced to flee Hogwarts as well, leaving it in Umbridge's care.

With Lucius having such prestige in the Ministry and such a strong connection to Fudge, that meant that Hogwarts was basically in the Dark Lord's control.

Her happiness had been short-lived, however, with the Dark Lord soon discovering that Harry was practically beyond their reach.

"You will go to Greyback," the Dark Lord ordered. "And you will give him every assistance he requires. If he succeeds, we may still be able to use this against the boy."

"I will, my lord."

"I grow tired of failures, Lucius. Do not give me reason to punish you. Go. Now."

Lucius left, somehow managing to not run.

"Tell me," the Dark Lord said as the door closed behind Lucius, his attention on Ginny. "You had mentioned sending a letter to Potter. Are you certain this would be enough to have him turn himself in?"

"I am, my lord. Especially once we have Lupin."

Slowly, the Dark Lord nodded, one pale hand rising to rest against his chin.

"It is possible that you may be able to send him a letter. The Fidelius will not prevent one who knows the secret from doing so. However, they may have set enchantments to prevent owls from finding it."

"Our school lists came there," she offered. "And I know that my-my parents sent letters to my brother in Romania."

"You have said so," he said, "But that is not enough. It is possible to alter the enchantments to allow specific owls to pass. They may have done so. Nevertheless, once Lupin is in our custody, you will send the letter."

"I will."

He stretched out his hand, long, thin fingers brushing against her forehead.

"I am blessed," he whispered, "to have someone as dedicated as you in my service. Bellatrix reports that you are growing more powerful, that you are learning to fight as I expect those bearing my mark should."

Her heart thumped loudly, butterflies flapping around in her chest as she nodded.

"Continue your training. Bellatrix assures me that you will be great. I believe her. I believe that you may one day hold my confidence more than any other. Prove me right."

"I-I will, my lord," she whispered, her voice trembling with proud joy. "I will. Thank you."

* * *

"Are you certain of this, Albus?"

Albus nodded wearily, wishing that he could be certain of more.

Knowing that Voldemort had made Horcruxes was all well and good, but there was only so much he could do without knowing numbers of them or even which objects precisely had been perverted and turned to soul-containers.

Oh, he had leads, memories which gave just enough information for him to begin theorizing. He knew enough to safely assume the identities of some of the Horcruxes. He knew that Horace was the key, that the true memory would give him that last, vital piece of information.

Three, seven, ten, or thirteen. It must have been one of those. Voldemort was many things, but he was no fool. Were he planning on making multiple Horcruxes, he would have been careful enough to align them with at least one of the most powerful magical numbers.

Seven, Albus thought, would have proved a strong temptation for him. Its symbolism of completion and of a wizard asserting his will upon the natural world would have been most appealing to Voldemort, not to mention the way it was most often used in rituals of a darker and more violent nature.

But then again, the number three had even more powerful connections to the dark arts. Ten was almost as bad, and thirteen…

Well, Albus shuddered just thinking of it. Surely Voldemort would not have been so afraid as to tear off thirteen pieces of his soul.

Though if he had, it would explain just how his soul was fragile enough to split off accidentally.

"Unfortunately, I am. But I cannot be certain of more, not unless my investigation bears fruit."

Alastor growled under his breath, his good hand curling into a tight fist.

Outside, the wind blew harshly, making the walls of the hut shake and shudder.

Neither Albus nor Alastor paid them any mind. They knew that the charms would at least hold the bedraggled hut together.

Albus had set this place up during the last period of hostilities; it was nothing more than a small shack with no furniture other than the few chairs within. Located as it was in the middle of a swampy area in the Scottish wetlands, it was unlikely to be found.

And even if it was, no-one would pay it a second glance.

It had become necessary, over twenty years previously, to have a place where Albus could meet with possible enemies without giving away the secrets of their headquarters.

It was Unplottable, of course, and protected with every Charm and enchantment Albus could put into place with the exception of the Fidelius.

He could have met Alastor in Headquarters, of course. But it was infinitely preferable for Albus to avoid Harry, at least until such time as he could safely speak with the boy.

Frankly, Albus had no idea when that would come.

"What else do you need to investigate?"

"I," he said, "must continue investigating the people who knew Voldemort when he was young. But I have a task for you."

"Of course you do," Alastor grumbled, rubbing at his solitary functional knee. "What is it?"

"We need the true, unvarnished memory from Horace. Something was said then, something which could change everything. We need it, Alastor."

Alastor's face hardened, the scarred and ruined features twisting into a fearsome expression.

"I'll get it. But on the condition that you keep me in the loop. You can't do this alone, Albus. You need help. And you need the help of someone you can trust to keep this quiet."

"Of course. You will be with me every step of the way."

* * *

The deep purple jet of a bone-breaker hurtled toward her, crashing into her hastily cast Shield Charm. The shield fell, of course, with a small pop and a series of cascading lights.

She was already in motion, spinning around and splitting the air as she Apparated, reappearing ten feet behind Bellatrix with her wand flashing.

 _'Stupefy!'_ she thought, waving her wand again the instant the spell had shot from its tip.  _'Expelliarmus! Stupefy!'_

Her second non-verbal stunner failed, releasing a pale pink jet that vanished before it was even half-way to Bellatrix.

She spun again while Bellatrix deflected her spells and returned fire, Apparating back to her original location with another Disarmer flying from her wand as soon as she had arrived.

"Reducto!" She cried, "Impedimenta! Stupefy!"

Cackling loudly, Bellatrix waved her wand.

A spherical disturbance in the air appeared before her, far more opaque than the usual Shield Charm.

The spells collided with shield, throwing up multi-coloured sparks.

It seemed to grow, bulging out where the spells had hit even as it pulsed oddly.

With no warning, the shield spat her spells back at her, vanishing as it did so.

Ginny dived, landing in a roll and jumping to her feet as soon as she could.

A deep blue jet of light missed her face by less than an inch, the heat of it causing her skin to instantly blister.

Ignoring the pain in her cheek as much as she could, she snapped her wand, yelling: "Diffindo!"

The spell shot true, flying right over Bellatrix's outstretched arm to smash into her shoulder.

For all that it must have hurt, Bellatrix didn't falter. Her face twisted into a grimace as blood splattered, her wand shooting into a strange and complex manoeuvre.

Instinctively, Ginny cast a Shield Charm, but the spell was not aimed at her.

The earth around her shuddered, rocks and muddy dirt forming into enormous hands that seized her arms and legs with iron grips.

She stood there stupidly for a moment, her wand falling from suddenly useless fingers as the hands around her tightened.

Then she was slammed down into the ground with incredible force, a terrible pain coursing through her as her arms and legs broke.

She bit down on her instinctive wail, determined not to show her weakness.

_'Fuck, fuck, bloody fucking fuck!'_

"Excellent," Bella laughed, walking over to her. "That was wonderful. You're improving."

Ginny groaned, a high-pitched, almost whistling sound escaping her.

"You almost had me there. Most people would have faltered, even just for a second. You'd have been able to take me completely, if I had."

Ginny groaned again, forcing herself not to scream.

_'Show her that you can take it. You can take it.'_

"Well?" Bellatrix huffed, her expression shifting to one of disappointment. "I'm complimenting you! Aren't you grateful?"

"Thank you," Ginny hissed, her teeth grinding up against each other as the agony tore her mind to shreds. "I am."

Bellatrix smiled again.

"You must be in terrible pain," she said, kneeling down and waving her wand. The earthen arms vanished, the oppressive pain lessening somewhat in their absence. "You want me to heal you, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"Beg me," Bellatrix whispered, her smile turning feral and cruel. "You know I like it when you beg. I'm making you stronger, you should give me something in return. Beg me, love."

"Please, please, it hurts, please Bella, please. Stop it, heal me. Please."

Tears streamed down her face, agony and shame burning in her.

And strangely enough, a hint of desire too.

Bellatrix kissed her gently on the forehead as she began to wave her wand over Ginny's arms, sending a strange sensation through her as if she was being rubbed by a boiling hot ice cube.

Slowly, the pain in her arms vanished, and Bellatrix moved on to her legs, rubbing her wand along them while muttering softly.

"All better now?"

Ginny nodded, flexing her arm experimentally.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"My pleasure," Bellatrix whispered, trailing a finger across Ginny's belly and sending shivers down her spine. "You really are improving magnificently."

"I haven't even beat you once yet," Ginny snorted, grabbing her wand and pushing herself to her feet.

"No. But you will, eventually. Already, you are beginning to pose a challenge. Not much of one, true, but compared to when we first started? You're far better than you were. Why, I doubt any student at Hogwarts would prove a challenge to you now."

"They probably wouldn't."

Bellatrix rose, laughter in her eyes.

"It's a pity we won't be facing Hogwarts students. You need to get better. Anyone you face in true battle will be better than you. You need to practice the Killing Curse until you can cast it without thought. It gives you an edge."

"I can't exactly use that in a duel with you," Ginny grumbled.

"No. But you can when we're fighting Aurors or Dumbledore's people. And that will give you an edge. Come, another round before lunch."

Rubbing the dirt off of her wand, Ginny nodded, walking a few feet away.

"We begin on three. One, two-"

Just before Bellatrix reached three, a series of loud cracks sounded, interrupting her and making them both spin around to the source of the noise.

Just beyond the invisible barrier holding out those without the Dark Mark, a group of five men had arrived, one of them holding someone over their shoulder in a fireman's carry.

The person at the front of the group walked forward, pulling back his sleeve and raising his arm.

A moment later, the group surged through the barrier, hurrying towards the manor house.

"Fenrir and his animals," Bellatrix said, starting to jog in their direction, "With Lucius leading them. They must have got the wolf."

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, excitement thrumming in her.

_'If we've got Lupin, it'll definitely work! It will! And everyone will know it was because of me!'_

Grinning, she began to run after Bellatrix.

* * *

Ginny stared at the prisoner, the smile on her face feeling forced.

His arms were bound above his head, the chains snaking around his wrists and pulling him tightly against the wall, his legs dangling a few inches from the floor.

Both his arms seemed to be broken, a shard of pale bone piercing the skin just above his left elbow. Naked, the cuts and burns on his chest and face seemed to glow in the gloom.

He was still shaking, the after-effects of the Dark Lord's interrogations still sending tremors through him, even though they'd given him close to an hour's break.

The Dark Lord had kept him for several hours though, dragging out every bit of information the wolf had on the Order and their plans.

But now it was time for the rest of them to have a turn.

A flash of white lit up the room for an instant, the whirring sound of Rookwood's camera mingling with Lupin's pathetic whimpers.

It seemed to give him some strength though. He tugged at his manacles, the chain above his head jingling as he tried to pull it free.

The silver bracelets grated against his wrists, tearing off bits of skin and making him howl.

Bellatrix tutted, reaching out and seizing his chin, forcing him to look up at where his hands were bound.

His eyes darted skittishly around, widening for an instant when they settled on Ginny before moving again.

"You see this, wolf?" Bellatrix hissed, nails biting into his chin. "They're silver. And the more you squirm, the tighter they'll get."

Her expression didn't change an ounce as she pulled her leg back and kicked, her boot hitting him hard enough between the legs that his entire body raised up.

Joyous laughter filled the air from the Death Eaters behind them, quickly turning into sounds of disgust as Lupin vomited.

The camera flashed again, lighting up Bellatrix's sneer as she waved her wand and vanished Lupin's mess.

"I don't like that," Bellatrix said, sounding like a teacher talking to a child. "You'll have to learn to stop that. Ginny. Now, pet."

Ginny started, her wand almost falling from slick fingers.

This was nothing like Hermione's parents had been. Lupin had been punished already, had been tortured for hours. They needed to get a few more pictures, true, but they didn't need to hurt him so badly, did they?

Lupin had been kind to her, once. He'd tried to talk to her, tried to comfort her after Harry had killed Tom. He'd tried to comfort her for the wrong thing, but he'd been kind, anyway. He'd seemed like he cared.

"Now, pet."

Slowly, she raised her wand, feeling the burning gazes of the Death Eaters behind her.

_'If I want their respect, I need to show them I deserve it. He chose the wrong side, and he should suffer for it.'_

"Crucio!"

He began to shake like a leaf in the wind, shrieking out hoarse cries of agony.

_'Show them that you enjoy this. That's what they need to see.'_

She made herself laugh, the noise sounding shrill and false at first.

But, as she watched him squirm and wail, she suddenly realized just how much power she had over him.

_'I can do anything to him. I could-I could kill him, transfigure him into a worm, make him beg me to kill him. I could do anything!'_

She could do anything. She had the power to do anything, to not have to worry about someone else hurting her or forcing her to do as they wished.

"Enough."

She bit down on her giggles, twitching her wand and ending the curse.

Lupin still shook, of course, dying screams tearing out of his throat, mixing with his half-choked pleas to form an oddly entrancing song.

The camera flashed again, turning Lupin's tears into glittering diamonds on his cheeks.

"Good girl," Bellatrix whispered, giving her a bright grin before turning her attention back to Lupin.

"Unfortunately," Bellatrix said, "we don't have too much time to play. So we're just going to have fun while we can."

Lupin looked down at her, his body shaking.

"I told you everything," he said, his voice sounding like a crystal that was going to shatter at any moment. "E-everything. Please, there's no need-"

A chorus of jeering cries interrupted him, with Dolohov waving his wand and hitting Lupin with someone that smashed him into the wall a few times.

"This isn't for information," Bellatrix said softly, "We trust that our lord got what he needed, else he would have told us what to ask about."

"So why?" Lupin asked, his voice teary. "If you want to kill me, just kill me already!"

Everyone laughed at that, the camera going off once more.

"We have our reasons. Now, look at this."

Bellatrix pulled the knife from its little holster on her belt, raising it up so it was right in front of Lupin's eyes.

"Silver, of course. Cursed, too, but only for long-term effects. You won't need to worry about those."

Lupin began to weep piteously, the manacles biting into his skin as he shook in his binds.

Chuckling, Bellatrix tossed the knife to Ginny.

Ginny nearly fumbled it, the blade slicing her thumb open as she just managed to catch it.

"This was your idea in the first place," she whispered, her eyes flicking almost imperceptibly to the Death Eaters behind them. "Why don't you show us what you're made of?"

* * *

Lupin barely moved when the knife bit into him, slicing off his right ear.

The camera flashed again, but Ginny paid it no mind. It had been going off every few minutes for the last few hours, or however long it actually was that they'd been playing with him. She'd completely lost track of time, as her horror of what she'd been doing changed into honest enjoyment.

At some point, she'd started laughing, an insane cackle that hadn't stopped for a while.

By now, she was covered in blood, even having to wipe it from her eyes every so often.

She still didn't look as bad as Lupin did, though. The missing ear made him look oddly lopsided, but the hundreds of cuts, burns, and patches of torn-off skin across his chest, arms, and legs made him look worse.

Bellatrix walked up, giving Ginny a quick kiss before reaching out and seizing Lupin's chin again.

Again, the camera flashed, throwing his face into sharp relief.

Besides for his ear, Ginny hadn't touched Lupin's face.

She'd wanted him to remain eminently recognizable, for there not to be even a second's doubt in the pictures.

"I think he's had enough for today," Bellatrix said, releasing his head. "Tomorrow, we'll have a busy day."

Lupin suddenly coughed, bloody spittle dripping out of his mouth.

He shook his head, coughing, until he could focus on Ginny.

"I-I pity you," he whispered, his voice mushy and sounding like there was something in his throat.

"Pity? I think there's only one person here deserving of pity."

He ignored her totally, just continuing to stare, a strange, rattling noise leaving him.

After a moment, Ginny realized he was laughing.

"You had everything. Your family-I've seen them, they grieve for Percy. But they grieve for you as well. They loved you-"

Another coughing fit caught him, one of the cuts in his chest opening up again from his violent shook.

Everyone behind her was utterly silent.

_'They want to see how I react.'_

"They loved you," he continued, barely above a whisper. "They'd have died for you. And you abandoned them for these people...any of them would kill you in an instant if they thought-if they thought Voldemort wanted them to."

There was a hushed gasp as he said the Dark Lord's name, Bellatrix's face twisting into a brutal snarl.

Still, none of them interrupted him.

"You think they care? Y-you think they love you? They don't. You l-left the people who actually cared-"

"They didn't care," Ginny said suddenly, her wand rising again. "And if the Dark Lord wanted me dead, I'd gladly end it myself."

Her blood began to boil, fury making a red haze appear before her eyes.

"I left those blood-traitors for people who know the truth. I did it, I  _chose_ it all! I chose power over weakness, I chose strength!"

Rage gripped her, twisting her voice into a high-pitched hiss.

"And don't you ever say  _his_ name again, you disgusting, pathetic, half-blood animal! CRUCIO!"

Lupin's entire body went stiff, the veins in his neck standing out as he threw his head back and roared, his flailing arms pulling the manacles tighter around them until thick streams of blood poured down them.

Cackling, Ginny took a step forward, a scream building in her throat.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? FUCK YOU!"

"Enough."

Bellatrix's quiet voice seemed to wash right over her, the calmly spoken word meaning nothing.

She stared into Lupin's wide eyes, revelling in his agony.

"YOU MEAN NOTHING! I HAVE THE POWER, NOT YOU!"

Fingers tightened around her shoulder, long nails slicing into her skin.

"I said enough!"

Bellatrix's hiss acted like a bucket of ice water, shocking her.

With a last, wild laugh, she ended the curse.

"You are intoxicating," Bellatrix whispered. "But enough for today. You need to send that letter tomorrow, and we'll have plenty of time to play with him once we've got Potter."

* * *

A sharp, rapping noise sounded, making Harry pause in the act of pulling up his pants and turn around.

It was early, the sun just starting to shine through the window, but he'd already been up for hours.

The last few nights had been terrible, ever since he'd been expelled from Hogwarts and forced to flee to Grimmauld Place.

He'd been having nightmares, terrible dreams of Voldemort and Ginny killing his friends and their families, while he was forced to watch and while Umbridge and Fudge laughed.

Inevitably, one of the dreams would wake him, and sleep would evade him for the rest of the night.

The only bright side about this whole situation was that there'd been nothing in the papers about his expulsion, or his escape from Hogwarts. Fudge, Sirius thought, wanted to hide his failure away.

At least there was no bounty in Harry's head.

The noise repeated itself.

Looking around wildly, Harry found its source; a scrawny brown owl with a large envelope tied to its leg was sitting on the window sill in the corner of the room, tapping its beak insistently against the glass.

His heart leapt at the sight; somehow, Hermione and Ron must have found a way to send a letter without Umbridge intercepting it.

McGonagall had already sent word to Sirius that the rest of his friends were okay, having received nothing but detention, but he was still more than incredibly eager to hear from them directly.

He strode over to the window, throwing it open and letting the owl in.

It hopped over to the desk and extended a leg, somehow giving off a regal air.

_'What the hell did they send? This thing is enormous!'_

The owl took off, swooping out of the window as Harry opened the envelope.

He turned it over, and a good few dozen glossy photographs fell out onto the desk along with a small piece of parchment that was covered in familiar handwriting.

Frowning, he picked up one of the photos and stopped, his heart thudding loudly as bile rose in his chest.

With a feeling like his blood had turned to ice, he flicked through the rest of them, his legs turning to jelly.

He picked the parchment up with trembling fingers, wondering if he was dreaming, if this was just another terrible nightmare.

As he read through it, his heart slowed down, a sense of cold determination coming over him.

He knew what he had to do.

* * *

"Harry?"

There was no answer.

Sighing, Sirius knocked again, rapping his knuckles against the old wood a few more times.

"Harry? You in there?"

Still no answer.

Sighing, Sirius pushed open the door to Harry's bedroom, immediately seeing that it was empty.

_'Where the hell is he?'_

He was about to close the door again, when something in the desk caught his eye.

There were dozens of photographs on the table, along with a small piece of parchment.

_'What did he find now?'_

He walked over and picked up one of them, idly wondering if Harry had found his way into the cellar.

When he looked at what the photograph showed, his legs gave out and dropped him to the floor with a shocked exclamation.

In the first photograph he'd picked up, he could see Remus, his mouth open with a soundless scream as Ginny Weasley dragged a gleaming dagger across his chest.

_'No. No. No. No. No. No. No.'_

Somehow, he found the strength to pull himself up, and picked up one of the other photos.

It also showed Moony, with Ginny jabbing the tip of her wand into his breast. From the way he was squirming, Sirius guessed she was burning him.

He leaned over, vomiting onto the floor.

Slowly, he straightened again, pulling the letter towards himself and ignoring the other photographs as much as he could.

 _"Harry,"_ it said.

_"We have Lupin, but you can save him. Enter the side street off Knockturn Alley, just past Borgin and Burke's, and keep walking until you see a sign advertising Mordred's Elixir. You will be met by one of us, and taken in Lupin's place._

_We'll let him go if you come. If you don't, we'll play with him until he begs for death, and then we'll play with him some more._

_Bellatrix says that we can keep him alive for at least a month. These pictures were all taken over the course of a few hours._

_By the end of the month, I don't know if there'll be much left of him to kill._

_If you come, we'll let him go. If you don't, we'll kill him eventually, once we get bored of him._

_And we'll kill everyone else who you care about. I'll kill the rest of my family and your mudblood, we'll kill your roommates and their families, we'll kill anyone from Hogwarts who you have a cordial relationship with._

_We'll kill everyone on your Quidditch team. We'll kill Oliver Wood, and Madam Hooch, and Madam Rosmerta. We'll kill Luna's father, and we'll even find a way to kill your muggles._

_If you come, we promise to spare anyone who doesn't fight against us directly. If you don't come, everyone you care about will die, and it will all be because of you._

_You have two hours. Come alone. Tell nobody. Don't let yourself be seen._

_If you care for them at all, even a slight bit, you'll come._

_Ginny Weasley."_

Suddenly, the house seemed empty around him.

"Oh god," he muttered. "Oh, fucking hell."

He cleared his mind as he drew his wand, trying to force himself to remember something happy.

Dumbledore had to be told, even before he ran off to rescue Harry.


	28. Fourth year, part nine

Year Four, Part Nine

Harry walked, determinedly focusing on nothing more than the feeling of his feet hitting the pavement.

Thoughts swirled around in his mind, demanding his attention. Thoughts of Ron and Hermione and Sirius and how he never got to say goodbye to them, fear that the two-hour time-limit had passed and that he would be too late, fearful thoughts of what would happen to him.

He ignored them all, knowing that if he were to allow himself to think he would lose his nerve.

He couldn't back away, not now.

_'Oh God, what if they do the same thing to me as they did to Lupin-'_

He shook his head angrily, banishing the images that threatened to arise and returning his eyes and thoughts to his moving feet.

Before he knew it, he was standing outside the Leaky Cauldron.

Pushing his hair down to cover his scar, Harry looked around, a violent pang of envy twisting his stomach as he looked at the Muggles around him. None of them gave him, or the Leaky Cauldron for that matter, a second glance.

None of them were walking toward what would probably be their torturous death.

_'Don't think about it, don't think about it!'_

He took a deep breath, patting his fringe again, and walked in.

Luckily, Tom the bartender was deep in conversation with a stooped-over old warlock at the bar. No matter how much Harry hid his scar, he was quite sure Tom or one of the patrons would recognize him if they paid too much attention.

"Just heading to the Alley," he said in as gruff a voice as he could manage, striding through to the back door and nodding briefly at the gaggle of elderly witches sitting at the corner table.

Diagon Alley was emptier than Harry had ever seen it before. Of course, all the previous time he'd been there had been during the summer holidays. Still, it seemed strange to not see it bustling with life. No families were making their way from shop to shop, no groups sitting at the restaurants and cafes and arguing about Quidditch.

There were still a fair amount of shoppers meandering along, but it was nothing like what he was used to.

Large posters were hung on the walls every few feet, with the faces of the escaped Death Eaters leering out at him along with announcements of their bounties.

There were fewer posters of Ginny, but more than enough to make him wince.

All of this, all the suffering Lupin had gone through, everything that was going to happen to him; it was all her fault.

_'No, it's Voldemort's. He possessed her, he turned her into this monster. It's all his fault.'_

When he reached the entrance to Knockturn Alley, he paused, staring down the gloomy street with his legs trembling and his heart thumping like a steel drum.

 _'I've got to do this,'_ he told himself, taking a few deep breaths.  _'I won't be able to live with myself if they keep going after my friends to torment me. I need to do this.'_

Slowly, his shaking stopped, a cold sense of determination coating him again.

He nodded his head once, fingering his wand in his pocket. If he had the chance, he could at least try and attack Voldemort.

They'd probably take his wand well before he reached that point, but it couldn't hurt to imagine it.

Setting his jaw, he entered Knockturn Alley.

It was much like he remembered it being, from his accidental trip there three years previously. There were no wanted posters on the wall, although he noticed a few places where strips remained from where they had obviously been torn down. Unlike Diagon, the timing of his visit didn't seem to disturb the business of the market. Cloaked and hooded figures scurried down the road, looking as suspicious as any Harry had seen before, while a group of hags sat at an outdoor table, cackling to each other loudly. Displayed against the storefront windows were all sorts of disgusting and creepy objects; from necklaces of human bones to strangely pulsating plants and pigeons with shiny teeth that glittered in their deformed beaks.

He strode along with his head down, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

Strange noises echoed through the gloom, odd growling sounds mingling with a shopkeeper announcing twenty percent off all coffin wood.

He was nearing the curve which led to Borgin and Burke's when he distinctly heard someone mention his name.

Flushing, he stumbled, wildly looking around until he could locate the source of the sound.

Two wild-looking wizards were leaning against the wall a little way off from him, whispering furiously to each other. They didn't appear to have noticed him. As he watched, the one bared his teeth and growled at the other, his jaw stretching far wider than should have been possible.

"Fine," the other wizard hissed, just loud enough for Harry to hear. "I'll keep an eye open."

Suppressing a shiver, Harry patted his fringe down again and kept walking, picking the pace up a bit.

Passing Borgin and Burke's, Harry looked around, quickly noticing the winding side street Ginny's letter had referred to.

_'Just down here. This is it.'_

That steely focus settled over him again as he walked down the street, his eyes peeled for the sign Ginny had mentioned.

As he walked, his senses seemed to go into overdrive, as if they knew that they were nearing the end of their time to function.

The smell of bread being baked in a nearby flat wafted over to him, the sound of an old song playing on the radio filling his ears.

He could feel every cobblestone underfoot and every inch of exposed skin the wind kissed.

The signs and advertisements grew brighter, catching his eyes and demanding his attention.

He glanced at them all, watching carefully for the one he had been told about.

His stomach gave a painful lurch as he noticed the large red canvas sign flapping in the breeze a little way down the road.

Blazed across it were the words " _Mordred's elixir: Accomplish your goals."_

A few people were standing around near the sign.

_'That's it. This is it.'_

Terrible, icy fear gripped him, mad thoughts of just turning around and running away circling through his mind.

_'I have to do this. No matter what comes, I've got to do this.'_

He began to walk toward them, his fingers trembling again.

As he drew nearer, he started to make out who some of the people waiting for him were.

Lucius Malfoy stood at the front of the group, a small smile twisting his lips, his hand gripping the silver head of his cane. Slightly to the left of him were two hulking forms, unmistakably recognizable as Crabbe and Goyle's fathers.

Standing against the wall on the opposite side of the street were a witch and wizard who looked scarily alike; both of them squat and lumpy with similar pig-like faces.

"This may be the first and last time you hear this," Lucius drawled when Harry walked up to him. "But it is a pleasure to see you."

Harry bit down on his instinctive furious retort, forcing himself to stay silent.

"I believe your little former girlfriend is most excited to see you," Lucius continued. "I think the only one looking forward to it more than her is her master."

The sound of the short witch's wheezy giggles sent bile rising in Harry's throat, his hands automatically curling into tight fists.

Somehow, he managed to keep from saying anything.

"No clever replies? No famous last words?"

Harry's throat felt like it would burst with the effort of not saying anything. Still, he held strong, refusing to give Lucius the satisfaction of seeing him upset.

Lucius locked eyes with him, an eyebrow rising as he stared.

After a few minutes, Lucius nodded to the wizard by his side.

"Amycus," he said, "inform our friend in the Department of Mysteries that we are coming. Potter, we are taking a short detour. Try anything funny, and you will spend the rest of your miserable life dearly regretting it."

 _'The Department of Mysteries!_ Harry realized, his eyes widening,  _'That's where that door in the dreams goes! I saw it at the trial, that's it!'_

Before the wizard Harry presumed was named Amycus had even moved, everything went mad.

A series of loud cracks split the air, Lucius automatically taking a step back and pulling his wand out at the sound.

The squat witch next to Amycus made a squawking noise, jumping forward and drawing her wand.

Harry spun around, just as a loud, frantic voice yelled: "HARRY, NO!"

His jaw dropped, unbridled relief filling him as he comprehended the sight.

Dumbledore, Sirius, Moody, Sturgis, Bill, and Charlie Weasley were standing a little bit down the road with wands drawn.

Dumbledore looked like he had when Barty Crouch's identity had been revealed; his face an utter picture of fury, his eyes blazing with power and might.

Harry's relief turned to horrified dismay an instant later, however, as he remembered why he had come in the first place.

_'No, no, I need to do this!'_

Before anyone could react, Lucius leapt forward, yelling: "Summon  _him!_ " as he grabbed Harry around the waist, his wand coming to rest with its tip at Harry's neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Amycus pressing his finger to his left arm.

"LET HIM GO, YOU-"

"DON'T MAKE US-"

"Lucius," Dumbledore said, stepping forward and calmly interrupting Sirius and Moody's shouts. "I would release Harry, if I were you."

"Not one more step," Lucius warned, his grip tightening around Harry and his wand pressing deeper against Harry's skin.

"Do you really think you can prevent me from doing so? I am giving you five seconds, Lucius. A chance of a lifetime, one might say."

One of the Death Eaters cursed loudly. "He's blocked Apparition!"

"Dumbledore-" Lucius started.

Dumbledore moved, his wand flicking in an almost lazy gesture.

Hot blood splattered Harry's face, Lucius's shriek making him feel like one of his eardrums had popped.

Something seized him and tugged him harshly, pulling him from where he had been standing to Dumbledore's side before he could blink.

Stumbling, he glanced back to see Lucius cradling his bloody stump.

His right arm had been nearly sliced through, severing it from the elbow down. It lay on the cobbled ground, the wand still tightly gripped in its fingers.

There was a moment of shocked stillness, everyone present watching as Lucius, still shrieking, dropped to his knees with his arm clutched against his chest, the spurting blood giving his robes a crimson tinge.

"I did warn you," Dumbledore said quietly, not an ounce of pity evident in his voice.

The Death Eaters flinched as he raised his wand above his head, Amycus and the witch both crying out and slashing their wands through the air.

Sirius jumped forward, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him around just as a series of strange ringing noises sounded.

"We need to get out of here," he said, nodding to Bill and Sturgis, "Let's go, before-"

Sirius cut off suddenly, his face paling and his throat working soundlessly.

Dreading what he knew he would see, Harry turned around to face the Death Eaters.

Voldemort was there, a look of enraged fury twisting his inhuman face.

Without sparing the sobbing Lucius a glance, he reached out and placed one long, slender finger against the tattoo on Amycus' arm.

* * *

Spinning around, Ginny sent a Bone-Breaking Curse to where she had last seen Bellatrix.

The spell shot forward, whizzing through the air until it hit a tree trunk.

Ginny held her breath, her wand slick in her hand as she turned around, keeping her eyes peeled for her opponent.

She heard a soft noise behind her and spun again, casting a Shield Charm just in time to block Bellatrix's hex.

Bellatrix growled, her cloak whipping out behind her as she raised her wand.

Before she could cast a spell, it happened.

A terrible, burning spasm shot through her arm, originating in the Mark and spreading out to fill her whole body.

She fell to her knees with the sudden, shocking pain of it, an image of a location flashing before her eyes.

"He's summoned us!" Bellatrix cried. "Come! We need to go!"

"Wh-that-"

Growling again, Bellatrix ran over to Ginny, grabbing her shoulder roughly and dragging her to her feet.

With her hand still tight on Ginny's shoulder, Bellatrix spun around, pulling Ginny with her.

"Anti-Apparition Charms," Bellatrix whispered, her eyes widening. "We need to go to somewhere close to him but out of the Charm's range."

Bellatrix twisted again, and this time they were able to Apparate.

Ginny stumbled as they arrived, Bellatrix's hold on her the only thing preventing her from falling over.

Adrenaline pounded through her, the sound of shouts and incantations nearby setting her blood ablaze.

They were in what she assumed to be Knockturn Alley. She'd never been there before, but had heard enough about it to think that's where they were, not to mention Potter was meant to be picked up from there.

There was barely anyone around, the only presences being a pair of shadowy figures slinking away from her and Bellatrix.

"Come on!" Bellatrix hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the road, toward where the sound of fighting was coming from.

They'd just begun moving when they heard a loud crack behind them.

A moment later, Dolohov, Rookwood, Travers, and Mulciber drew even with them, also running toward the fight.

"Do we know who's there?" Dolohov yelled as he caught up.

Bellatrix just shook her head, the screams from ahead growing louder as they drew closer.

They rounded the corner, all of them coming to an immediate stop at the sight that met them.

Lucius Malfoy was lying unconscious or dead on the ground, his right arm ending just above the elbow in a bloody stump. There was another body, someone that looked very much like Crabbe, a few feet to his left. Three Death Eaters were duelling with Moody and Charlie, while Sirius stood against the wall with his left arm held protectively in front of Harry's chest, his wand blurring as he fought off someone Ginny vaguely recognized. In between Sirius and Moody, there were two bodies on the floor, one of which Ginny thought was Sturgis, an enormous hole in his chest.

The other had a mess of red hair.

She noticed all of this in the blink of an eye, but the two figures in the middle of the road drew her attention.

Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were duelling, a simultaneously entrancing and terrifying sight.

Spells shot between them faster than her eyes could track, brilliantly bright jets of light hurtling from one to the other.

As she watched, open-jawed, the Dark Lord waved his wand like a lasso. Dark shadows crept out from the alcoves and shops lining the walls, pooling together between him and Dumbledore and growing, taking the shapes of monstrous, half-formed beasts.

Ginny heard a half-swallowed exclamation behind her and turned instinctively to see that more of her companions had arrived.

The Lestrange brothers were running forward with Jugson, Gibbon, Rowle, Pettigrew, and three figures in dark robes and silver, skull-like masks.

"KILL THEM ALL!" Her lord shrieked, flicking his wand and sending a giant wall of flame hurtling past Dumbledore toward the Order. "BUT BRING ME POTTER!"

Dumbledore jerked his arm, twisting his wand in a strange, impossible-looking movement, and the wall of flame shuddered, stopping to move and spreading out to block off the Alley behind him.

The Dark Lord hissed between his teeth, slashing his wand and making the shadow creatures begin to howl.

Just as the Dark Lord gestured forward, making the shadow creatures howl and snarl and start running toward his opponent, Dumbledore twitched his wand, transfiguring the wall of flame into one made of large, thick stones which completely cut off the fighting behind him.

Screams and flashes of light filtered through, strange, unearthly colours lighting up the sky.

A Killing Curse shot from the Dark Lord's wand, clearly aimed a few feet to Dumbledore's left.

Dumbledore seemed to smile for an instant, nothing but his wand moving.

A small tornado appeared before him, the force of its winds tugging at Ginny's hair even as it began to move.

It tore through the summoned beasts, sending dust and almost-physical specks of darkness through the air. As it passed through the horde, the creatures vanished.

The emerald jet of the Killing Curse smashed into the wall behind Dumbledore, bright-green flame rising and licking at the stone before dissipating.

The Dark Lord and Dumbledore stood there warily, neither of them making a move.

"Surely you didn't think it would be so easy, Tom," Dumbledore said in an icy voice, glancing around at the Death Eaters. Ginny shivered as his gaze rested on her for a second.

They were not the kindly, compassionate eyes of the foolish old man he'd always been. They blazed with fury, power seeming to radiate out of them.

"Bellatrix, Rowle," the Dark Lord hissed. "With me. The rest of you, kill them all. Now!"

Bellatrix gave a wild, shrieking laugh as she jumped to the Dark Lord's side with her wand flashing, a bright blue curse leaping toward Dumbledore.

Dumbledore twisted oddly, making a whistling noise even as his wand twitched.

As he ran past her with his wand jabbing towards the wall Dumbledore had created, Dolohov gave a loud yell.

It spurred Ginny into action; she tore her eyes away from the fight before her and began to run along with the other Death Eaters, avoiding the whirlwind of flying spells around Dumbledore and hurling a Blasting Hex at the wall as she went.

Rookwood almost knocked her over as he picked up speed, waving his wand and calling out an incantation in some language she didn't recognize.

She heard a bird screeching behind her, but kept her attention on the wall, screaming "EXPULSO!"

The wall shimmered, becoming almost see-through for a moment, as Dolohov repeated Rookwood's incantation.

And then it vanished.

Behind her, she could hear Rowle screeching in agony.

Somehow, she kept from turning back and running to help Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, forcing herself to choose his orders over her instinctive need.

Instead of turning back, she followed the other Death Eaters through the vanishing wall.

Moody and Charlie were still standing, though a large gash had opened up across Charlie's face. In front of them, a witch was jumping around, clearly overwhelmed by the odds she was facing. As Ginny ran forward, the witch tripped over a twitching body on the floor.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ginny howled, aiming for Moody.

He snapped his head out of the curse's path, letting it splash against the wall between him and Charlie.

Charlie's eyes widened, a pained look flickering across his face.

"Ginny-"

"FUCKING DIE! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Moody reacted quick enough to save her brother's life, slashing his wand through the air and sending a bunch of cobblestones flying into her spell's path.

He raised his wand-

Dolohov crashed into her, throwing her to the side and immediately beginning to duel Moody, jets of light making the air between them sizzle.

"GINNY," Charlie yelled, shooting a Stunner her way, "STOP!"

"FUCK YOU! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Charlie jumped out of the way, sending a sickly-yellow spell flying toward her.

Her training with Bellatrix paying off, she cast a Shield Charm without thought.

As she raised her wand, she caught a snatch of Dumbledore's voice, even through the screams and yells.

"The Aurors are already here," he was saying. "Even someone as brilliant as you cannot win this fight."

She spared a glance down the road, blanching as she realized what she was seeing.

Sirius and Harry were no longer facing her companions alone.

Standing around them, mostly with pale, terrified faces, were at least two dozen witches and wizards, all wearing the uniforms of Aurors and Hit-Wizards.

Kingsley was standing next to Sirius, gesturing at the Death Eaters and at the Dark Lord and yelling furiously.

_'Fucking hell!'_

Charlie sent another curse toward her; it smashed into her Shield, tearing it apart but getting no further.

She twisted, casting a Bone-Breaking Curse.

It smashed right into Charlie's leg, a terrible cracking noise sounding as he fell to the floor.

"You're weak," she spat, taking a step toward him. "Pathetic!"

"STOP FUCKING AROUND!" Dolohov yelled, "GO HELP THE OTHERS!"

She shot a look down the road and grimaced. The fight did not seem to be going well at all.

The Aurors were advancing, with two more Death Eaters down than when she had last looked.

Worse, she could see Potter at the very back of the group, with four Aurors around him.

They were very slowly backing away, two Aurors facing toward the fight while the other two stood on the other side.

Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but Ginny was completely confident that he wasn't too far away.

"ROOKWOOD," She screamed, "POTTER'S GETTING AWAY!"

Rookwood nodded to her, sending an explosive curse at the encroaching Aurors and grabbing the wizard next to him by the arm.

Something crashed into her side, knocking her down.

She kept hold of her wand and managed to roll when she hit the floor, rising a few meters away with her side aching.

Charlie had managed a rudimentary healing on his leg; it still looked exceptionally wobbly, but he was managing to stand.

The light blue haze of a shield charm hung in the air before him.

"GINNY," He screamed, "YOU-"

She slashed her wand through the air like a knife, spitting out the incantation of the organ piercing curse Dolohov had shown her.

It smashed right through Charlie's shield, his mouth opening in a huffed exclamation as he fell on his back.

She didn't spare a thought for him, instead whirling around to give Dolohov a hand with Moody.

He didn't need the help. At some point, Travers had joined him, and as she turned around one of their curses hit Moody, sending him flying through the air to crash right through the nearest building's wall.

"COME ON," Dolohov cried, starting to run toward the Death Eaters still fighting the Aurors. "WE NEED TO GET POTTER!"

Looking around wildly, Ginny noticed Rookwood and two others, both wearing those silver masks, appearing out of an alley just ahead of where Harry and his Auror companions were heading.

"ROOKWOOD'S ON IT," She yelled back, gesturing to him, "LOOK!"

She ran alongside Dolohov, their mad rush into the insanity of the fight pushing surprising the Aurors, letting them draw closer.

Imitating Dolohov, she began to cast curse after curse, her wand twisting and moving as quickly as she could manage.

Closing the gap between them and the Aurors, she could make out Rookwood and the Death Eaters with him. They were fighting frantically, slowly whittling down the Aurors around Harry, pushing them forward.

A spell whizzed through the air, coming so close to her that it moved her hair with the wind of its passing.

She shrieked wordlessly, frantic fear and fury turning her thoughts to mush.

"INCENDIO! EXPULSO! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

One of her Killing Curses flew true, dropping one of the Aurors.

The rest of her spells flew completely off-target, however, and she could hear one of them shouting about fetching backup.

_'I can't do this! This is all just too much!'_

She began to laugh, a hysterical cackle that tore its way out of her and made her feel like she was going to be sick.

Dolohov was standing next to her, his wand moving so fast that she could only envy him.

Everything around her seemed to come in flashes, snatches of sight and sound and even the scent of burning flesh.

She fought, jumping out of the way of curses even as she cast shield charms, sending spell after spell whirling toward whichever target she saw at the time, Killing Curses and Cutting Hexes leaping from her wand with equal measure.

She thought one of her Cutting Hexes hit an Auror, but she couldn't be sure. Dust, smoke, and ash filled the air, powerful winds whipping through the street and stirring up all the mess the fight was creating, making it all but impossible to keep her eyes open.

A frantic sense of disappointed fear pounded through her. This battle, it was nothing like anything she'd experienced before. She'd spent hours and hours training with Bellatrix, but it hadn't come close to preparing her for the pure confusion and wildness of a fight of this scale.

A loud commotion broke out in the Auror ranks. Through teary, slitted eyes, she saw a group turning around and running to help those around Potter; Rookwood and those with him had been joined by five or six rough-looking wizards and witches. As she watched, she just barely made out one of them leaping at a Hit-Wizard and grabbing him by the throat. She distinctly heard Harry screeching out a hex.

_'Someone brought Greyback!'_

The Aurors surged forward, yelling and casting whatever they could.

The fighting grew fiercer, the gap between Ginny and the Aurors slowly closing.

An Auror appeared right before her, emerging from the dusty cloud and waving his wand at her.

Screaming, she cast a Shield Charm just in time, his Stunner splashing up against it.

 _'A Stunner?!'_ she thought with disdain,  _'Bellatrix barely ever uses such useless spells!'_

She began to laugh again, baring her teeth and staring her opponent in the eyes as she cast an Expulso.

He managed to block it, but barely, sending a strange, orange jet flying toward her.

It broke through her shield, but the shield slowed it for long enough that Ginny had leapt out of its path.

"YOU'RE WEAK," She shrieked, sending the Cutting Curse Snape had taught her, Sectumsempra, his way.

He almost avoided it, jumping to the side and slashing his wand again.

Almost, but not entirely.

As if a sword had been swung at him, a large gash opened in his chest, blood immediately spraying out and splashing all over Ginny's face.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" She cried, jabbing her wand forward before he could finish the spell he was clearly trying to cast.

The Killing Curse took him right in the face, dropping him to the ground with blank, empty eyes.

Someone screamed, a spell touching her shoulder as it flashed past her.

Gritting her teeth, trying as best as she could to ignore the leaden feel of her arm, she attacked.

Curse after curse spat from her wand, but barely any seemed to find targets.

She tried to push forward but immediately had to dodge a wayward curse. As she sidestepped, the ground under her shook, throwing her down. By the time she had risen again, the Aurors were right on top of her, forcing her to turn and run before trying to face them from a distance again.

_'I need to fight another one individually! It's the only way, this is all too mad!'_

She didn't get the chance. The Aurors were pressed together as tightly as they could manage, and when Gibbon began fighting one of them from up close the one beside him joined, the two of them quickly felling the hulking blonde figure.

As it went on, she began to feel sluggish. She barely managed to twist out of the way of a Stunner, and a moment later something grazed across her face, blood immediately seeping out and dripping down her cheek.

She flinched the moment the spell hit, and that single automatic weakness cost her.

Three spells hit her, two on her chest and one on her left shoulder; thankfully, none of them were Stunners or Disarmers, so she managed to stay conscious and keep hold of her wand, but she could feel cuts opening up and bruises blossoming.

Slowly, the Aurors continued to advance, pushing her and the other Death Eaters back step by agonizing step.

It was only when she heard Bellatrix laughing and shouting out a mocking comment that she realized they were back where they had originally started. "COME ON," Bellatrix cried, "SURELY YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT?"

The Aurors faltered in their approach, and Ginny chanced a look around.

The Dark Lord was still duelling Dumbledore, alone once more. Sirius and Tonks had made their way forward and were standing beside Dumbledore with the two of them fighting Bellatrix.

Dumbledore's phoenix swooped through the air, slashing its talons at the head of a large snake that slithered around, trying in vain to attack Dumbledore.

Somehow, Bellatrix was holding her own against them.

"Do you see them, Tom?" Dumbledore called, his voice piercing through the sound of fighting. "You cannot hide any longer. You have accomplished nothing but revealing yourself today."

The Dark Lord made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl, his wand suddenly twitching to the side.

Ginny was thrown through the air as a large portion of the street in front of the Aurors simply blew up with an explosion so loud that the noise itself seemed to have physical force.

Stumbling to her feet, she rubbed the blood from a new cut on her forehead out of her eyes, feeling exceptionally dizzy and disoriented.

All the sounds around her seemed to be filtering through water, a Ginny ringing in her ears making her want to vomit.

The street ahead of them was mostly clear, with the few Aurors that were still standing having scattered.

Harry and the Aurors with him, one of whom, she realized, was Kingsley, seemed unaffected by the blast.

As she rose, she saw one of the werewolves diving toward Kingsley, only to crash down into the ground as if a giant fist had punched it.

The Dark Lord waved his wand, firing off three Killing Curses in half the time that it would take Ginny to cast one.

One of them shot towards Dumbledore, another straight at Sirius.

Dumbledore's phoenix squawked, appearing before him in a golden flash and taking the Killing Curse in the head. The bird burst into flames and dropped to the ground a tiny featherless chick. A large section of the ground rose, intercepting the one aimed at Sirius.

But nothing blocked the third one.

It shot down the street, missing an Auror by less than an inch, continuing its flight until it hit the target.

It struck Harry in the chest, bathing him in an eerie green light for a moment before he fell on his face.

For a perfect, crystallized moment, everything fell still, no-one daring to break the shocked hush that had fallen upon them.

The universe seemed to take a breath, the only sound that of Harry's glasses shattering on the cobblestones.

Dumbledore's face bore the strangest expression Ginny had ever seen; it crumpled, but something bright and hopeful lurked below the surface.

Everything was still, as the realization of what had just happened settled in.

And then Sirius broke the silence.

"HARRY!" He howled, agonized pain echoing through the suddenly quiet area.

"Have I really accomplished nothing?" The Dark Lord asked softly, raising his wand against Dumbledore again.

Sirius spun around suddenly, his face that of a beast in pain.

He slashed his wand through the air with a terrible shout, a jet-black spell flying from the tip.

Bellatrix screeched, crying out an incantation.

Whatever it was, the spell was halfway to her when it exploded, a wave of hardened air rolling out from it and knocking Ginny down with a horrific crack in her ankle and a brutal pain as her head smashed into the cobbles.

Everything began to grow dark around her, unconsciousness urgently trying to settle in.

_'I need to stay awake! If I pass out now, I'm done for!'_

She felt a hand grip the back of her neck and tug at her, distantly heard Bellatrix's shout.

Biting her inner cheek hard enough to draw blood, she forced herself to remain conscious, forced herself to suffer through the agony and stand.

Slowly, she did so, shaking her head and blinking away the dots that swam before her eyes.

"YOU DIRTY ANI-"

Bellatrix's shout cut off with a sudden gurgling noise, her eyes bulging and her face paling as her grip on Ginny's neck slackened.

Again, everything went silent, no-one so much as moving.

Shakily, Ginny followed her line of sight and gasped, fearful panic filling her.

Just down the road, Harry was getting to his feet.

_'No, no, no! It can't be, he's dead, he's dead! He has to be dead!'_

"It would seem that my immediate assumption was correct," Dumbledore said, sounding positively cheerful.

Terrified, not understanding, Ginny turned to her lord.

His face was whiter than she'd ever seen it, his eyes wide and almost frightened.

With a terrible snarl, he slashed his wand through the air. She felt it more than anything else, a sudden sensation of lightness in the air.

With a swirl of his black robes and a loud crack, the Dark Lord vanished.

More sounds of Apparition filled the air as Bellatrix's arm tightened on her neck again and she pulled, tugging Ginny with her into the space between here and there.

As she was pulled into Apparition, Ginny caught one last sight of the street.

It was littered with bodies, covered in blood and gore and small fires and the wreckage from the shops and buildings around them.

And in the middle of it all, impossibly, Harry Potter stood, very much alive.


	29. Interlude VII

Interlude VII

Harry shook his head again, trying to banish the strange, terrible feeling that smothered him.

Images of the battle in Knockturn Alley kept appearing before his eyes, the screams of the injured still echoing in his ears.

His hands still shook with tension, the adrenaline still draining out and leaving him feeling strung out and worn.

Frankly, he felt exhausted, ready to go off and sleep until the world made slightly more sense.

But he couldn't, at least, not yet.

One of the portraits on the wall asked him a question in a querulous voice.

He ignored it, just as he ignored the buzzing and whirring of all of Dumbledore's strange silver instruments.

He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed since he got up from the Killing Curse. He thought it must have been at least an hour and a half, but the chain of events was all jumbled together in his head.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had run, leaving only the dead and injured behind.

At some point, Healers and Medi-Witches had arrived, along with a bunch more Aurors and a pale-faced Cornelius Fudge.

The chaos had been almost overwhelming, with all the shouting and arguing and frantic movements.

The Aurors and Healers had started transporting the bodies littering the floor, and then Dumbledore had walked away from a stunned-looking Fudge to create a Portkey and send Harry back to Hogwarts.

He hadn't gotten to speak to Sirius again before being sent to the castle. Honestly, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to thank him for the rescue or punch him.

But somehow, Harry felt sure he'd have the chance soon. When he'd left, Sirius had been under Auror guard.

But Harry had seen Wormtail under guard as well.

For a moment, Harry allowed himself the liberty of fantasising about escaping the Dursleys completely, leaving Privet Drive and moving in with Sirius.

A small smile spread across his face, shattering after a few seconds.

It would be nice, but it wouldn't happen. Something would go wrong, Voldemort would attack and ruin his dream. Something would go wrong.

Good things just didn't last for him.

He closed his eyes and stared into the blackness behind his lids, trying desperately to think of something other than the horrific scenes of the day.

The terrible revelation he'd received after the Killing Curse still pounded through his head, demanding his attention. It overshadowed everything; the horrors he had witnessed and his thoughts of the dead and injured paled before the pure disgust induced by what he had learned.

Feeling like he was going to vomit, he clenched his hands into fists, desperately trying to focus on nothing but the sound and feel of his breathing.

How long he sat there, unmoving, he had no idea. All he knew was that slowly, ever so slowly, that terrible nausea vanished, the feeling like his throat and chest were being crushed dissipating along with it.

A soft popping noise sounded and all the portraits began to talk at once.

 _'Dumbledore's here,'_ he realized.

Opening his eyes, he turned around.

Dumbledore was standing in the centre of the office, holding the tiny form of Fawkes in his hands as he smiled and nodded at the wall of cheering portraits.

Gently, he placed the minute phoenix on its perch before striding over to his seat and taking it.

He looked as exhausted as Harry felt, but still pleased.

"The-the others," Harry asked, dreading the answer but wanting, no, needing to know. "Are they alright? I saw S-Sturgis, but everyone else…"

Dumbledore's eyes tightened, a grim expression flicking across his face.

"Sturgis Podmore and Charlie Weasley did not survive," he said with a sigh, his voice carrying immense sadness. "Nor did at least six Aurors and Hit-Wizards. With the exception of several others who remain critical, the rest are expected to make full recoveries."

Harry's heart skipped a beat, Charlie's name sending a wave of sorrow through him.

He'd known it, deep down, since he'd caught a glimpse of Charlie's face when a Healer levitated him. He'd known it, but had covered that knowledge with false hope.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that the Ministry will no longer be denying Voldemort's return. Madam Umbridge has been removed from this institution, and your expulsion has been revoked. Furthermore, the wheels have begun turning to secure the declaration of Sirius' innocence. Many Death Eaters were captured, including Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy."

Dumbledore paused, as if waiting for Harry to say something.

He didn't, only giving a curt nod instead.

"We paid a great price today," Dumbledore continued, his voice solemn. "But it was not for nothing. We paid a great price, but achieved a great victory. None of the deaths were in vain."

"I  _died_ ," he whispered, not aware that he was going to say anything until the words had left his lips.

"You did," Dumbledore said gravely, "And yet, you did not. Harry, I know that you need rest, I know that you would like nothing more than to postpone this conversation. But I must know. What happened after the Killing Curse hit you?"

He glanced up for a second, meeting Dumbledore's eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, they did not dart away, instead remaining on him.

Looking back at his folded hands, Harry spoke.

"I-I was in this place. I don't know how to describe it. It was like-like King's Cross station, but much, much bigger. And filled with white mist. Everything was white, all shiny and clear."

Dumbledore listened raptly, not interrupting.

"There was this-this thing on the floor. It looked like Voldemort did before Wormtail gave him a real body. And then-"

He cut off, his eyes filling with tears as their faces swam before his eyes.

"My parents were there," he said hoarsely. "And-and they said that I could live. They said it was up to me."

Fawkes let out a soft crooning noise, Harry's head instinctively rising at the sound.

He was startled to see tears swimming in Dumbledore's eyes.

"They said that-that there was a part of him in me," he said, revulsion twisting his innards. "And that his Killing Curse, it killed that part, but not me. There was a part of his-his soul in me."

With a sad yet utterly unsurprised look, Dumbledore nodded.

"You knew," Harry said flatly. "You knew about it. And you never told me."

Finally, an emotion other than guilt, horror, or disgust rose in him.

"Years ago," Harry said, his voice shaking with barely compressed rage. "You told me that there was a connection between me and him. You didn't tell me what it was. That's why you've been avoiding me this year. You've known for years, and you never told me the truth."

"I could not," Dumbledore said, sounding sorrowful. "Not when I knew of no method to remove it. Not when Voldemort could have been listening through your ears, seeing through your eyes. I could not tell you, Harry, could not force myself to explain that the only way I knew to free you from him would likely kill you."

"But it didn't-"

"I believed," Dumbledore interrupted, "that there was a chance, a minuscule, infinitesimal chance, that if Voldemort were to be the one to cast the spell, you would survive. He used your blood, Harry, to recreate his body. Your blood, in which flows the sacrifice your mother made for you, her final protection. In using your blood, he gave you a chance to remain tethered to life. I dared not even hope for it, not when it was such a low chance. And I dared not give you what may have been false hope either."

Harry shook his head, his nails biting crescents into his palms. This was all too much, far too much to deal with right now.

"What was it?" He asked, "How did a piece of  _him_ end up in me?"

Dumbledore sighed again, reaching out and petting Fawkes softly before answering.

"That, Harry, is the subject of a far, far longer discussion, one that would be better undertaken if we are both well-rested. Please understand, I am not avoiding answering you. But, I believe, there is much that I must explain to you first. And I would prefer that Miss Granger and Mr Weasley join us for this. Not to mention that there is much research I must do before I can make any definitive statements."

"You said that you'd explain everything," Harry said. Fatigue was beginning to cover him like a blanket again, the energy his anger had given him seeping out.

"So I did. And so, for now I shall tell you all that I am utterly certain about. At the end of your first year, as you were convalescing in the Hospital Wing, you asked me why it was that Voldemort had attacked your family in the first place. I did not answer you then. Now, I think, the time has come for me to do something I should have done at least four years ago. It is time for you to understand."

* * *

Ron sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at his clasped hands and letting the chaos of St Mungo's wash over him.

None of his family spoke, not even Fred and George. His mother had been crying on and off for the last few hours, but her well of tears seemed to have run dry.

Now, like the rest of them, she stared into space.

Idly, Ron wondered if they were feeling the same way as him; if that numbness was smothering them too, if they also felt like they were a balloon barely attached to their bodies and were watching from the outside.

When Percy had been killed, it had hurt. It had done more than hurt, it had stung like a knife to the chest, burned like an ember to the cheek. The rage had been there, turning his thoughts into a red mush, self-loathing filling his throat and belly with acidic bile.

Now, he and his family sat in a row of chairs outside the room where Bill was fighting for life, just a few doors down from the room where Charlie's cooling corpse lay, and he felt nothing but empty numbness.

It was too much, he thought. Too much for any person to experience and actually feel, too much for his brain to comprehend.

He tried to look at it piece by piece, tried to let it slowly sink in.

Another of his brothers had died.

Another of his brothers had been murdered.

Another of his brothers had been murdered by the girl who used to be his sister.

Ginny's betrayal still stung, burning in his very soul.

Too much. Too much to take in and remain sane.

The pain would come later, he knew. Once he'd wrapped his mind around it, once the facts of Charlie's death had sunk in and started to feel real.

In a way, he wished the pain would just come already. Anything would be better than the horrible numbness.

Someone coughed.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley?"

A young Healer had walked in front of them, looking like he was ready to pass out. But, tired as he was, there was a smile on his face.

"He's going to be alright. You can visit him now, if you want, but he'll be sleeping until tomorrow at the earliest."

Ron's mother burst into tears again, her body shaking with her grateful, grieving sobs.

Ron was so numb he could barely even feel relieved.

* * *

With a flick of his wand, he ended the Cruciatus, giving Alecto's shaking form a kick as he stalked over to his seat.

"You have failed me," he said, his voice shaking with furious rage.

"My lord," she begged, prostrating herself at his feet. "Lucius was in charge-"

"And Lucius will bear the brunt of the punishment," he said coldly.

He heard a stifled sob from the corner of the room where Lucius' wife stood.

"But Lucius is not here," he hissed, slashing his wand through the air and making Alecto writhe under the torture curse again.

In the back of his mind, the unexpected emotion thrummed.

He couldn't recall experiencing it since he first heard the prophecy, and even then it had only lasted a few seconds before vanishing.

Vaguely, he could remember times in the orphanage when he'd felt it, but it had never been like this.

How could the boy have survived? The curse had hit him, there was no denying that. There was no chance that the boy had created horcruxes.

There was no mother to die for him, no one sacrificing themselves to protect him from inevitable death.

Regretfully, he ended the curse, raising his wand up to eye level and staring at it.

Once before, his wand had not served him as it should have when Potter was involved. That time, however, the boy had caused a Priori Incantatem to occur.

Could it be? Was it possible that his wand had failed him at such a crucial moment?

Or could it be that the unknown half of the prophecy contained the answer?

He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing.

There were too many unknown variables involved. His research into sacrificial magic had led only to dead ends, and he had neglected the study of wandlore.

For now, the prophecy remained beyond even his grasp. Security at the Ministry of Magic had doubtless been increased, and the chances of a successful infiltration were not as high as he would like.

No, he would have to do something else. He would have to remedy the terrible gaps in his knowledge, but that alone wouldn't be enough.

He knew that he would not be able to rest until Potter had been captured. Until he was able to study what exactly it was that had allowed the boy to escape the cold nothingness of death once again.

But perhaps he could set events in motion to achieve multiple goals at once.

"Narcissa," he called. "When your son returns from Hogwarts, you will bring him to me."

A hesitant voice called out, just before Narcissa could reply.

"My lord?"

He nodded to her, allowing his youngest servant to approach.

She did so, dropping to her knees and staring at him with wide, emotional eyes.

Unlike most of his servants, there was no terror in her gaze. There was awe, and devotion, and even a hint of desire, but no terror.

It was remarkable how much his diary horcrux had achieved. Of course, if the possession had been against her will, it would not have managed to bring her to his service.

But the shard of his soul had not forced her, not with might, at least.

It had manipulated her. Helped by the enchantments on the diary, it had successfully rewired her brain, twisting her sense of loyalty until there was nothing more important to her than him.

She would gladly die for him, if he was to give the order.

As was only fitting.

"My lord...Draco could be useful. He could-we have no-one else in Hogwarts…"

"And so he shall. He will not die or suffer needlessly. Not unless he proves to be as much a failure as his father is."

Another soft sob came from Narcissa, more proof that he was making the correct decision. Punishment should be feared.

"Thank you," Weasley whispered. "My lord."

"Everyone out," he said, those closest to the door already beginning to move. "I have much planning to do. It is time for us to take control of Britain."

As they made their way out, Alecto leaning on Gibbon's shoulder, that strange emotion pounded through his head.

He thought of Potter, standing up after being hit by a Killing Curse, and for the first time in decades, Lord Voldemort felt true fear.

* * *

"Do you think he'll figure out what happened?"

Dumbledore leaned back slightly in his chair, stroking his beard as he looked down at Moody.

"Perhaps," he said. "But I find it unlikely. One aspect of Voldemort's personality we can always rely on is his arrogance. Even if he is able to face the fact that he accidentally created a horcrux, I very much doubt that he'll accept that I could learn his secret. But we must move quickly. Unlikely though it may be, it is a possibility."

Moody nodded, scratching his arm.

"They'll let me out tomorrow," he said. "I'll head straight to meet with Slughorn."

"Excellent. And I believe I have a lead to follow. Hopefully, by tomorrow I will have more information as well. Until then, Alastor."

* * *

Sighing, Dolohov walked up the lounge window and sat on the unoccupied armchair next to Mulciber.

The sounds of a ferocious duel filtered through the glass, spellfire splitting the air and making him half-close his eyes against the blinding jets of light.

The two women outside did not notice their silent audience. They continued their near-lethal dance, jumping and twisting and Apparating, all the while spells hurtling from their wands.

"Tell me you aren't still thinking about having her," he said, breaking the silence. "Tell me you've come to your senses."

Mulciber grunted, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

"Jarred. Don't be stupid. She has our lord's favour-"

"I fucking know, alright?"

"Do you?"

"Even if the Dark Lord didn't care," Mulciber growled, "I'd leave her alone. That bitch is as crazy as Bellatrix. Maybe even more."

"Bellatrix loves her for a reason. You should have realized that a while ago."

Mulciber laughed, a hollow, grating sound.

"I should have. But I only did once I saw her with Lupin. Hell, even if the Dark Lord didn't care and Bellatrix agreed to share, I wouldn't want to fuck someone like that. You never know what she'd do while I'm sleeping. Could be like a praying mantis type of thing."

Laughing, Dolohov shook his head, still watching the fight outside.

It was winding down, with Weasley clearly getting sluggish and tired while Bellatrix continued as energetically as before.

As he watched, a curse hit Weasley in the chest, knocking her to the floor with smoke rising from her torso.

Bellatrix walked over to her, and began to wave her wand over the prone girl, smiling widely all the while.

A few moments later, Weasley arose, smiling as much as Bellatrix was.

"Fucking looney," Mulciber said, "look at her. Fucking crazy."

* * *

Ron kept silent, watching as his mother walked up to the mantelpiece and raised her wand, stabbing it into the last untouched family picture.

The photograph writhed, pigments and colours racing across the glossy surface.

After a minute or two, the wand was withdrawn.

The picture looked almost exactly like it had before, with one difference.

Ginny wasn't in it any longer, just as she'd been erased from all the other photos in the house.

His mother stood there for a moment, body shaking with pent up tears.

Then, slowly, she straightened, a look of terrible grief flashing across her face before it returned to the strange, harsh expression that looked so out of place on her usually kindly face.

"I have no daughter," she said, her voice only cracking slightly. "She's just another Death Eater."

"Mum," Bill said, sounding like he wanted to cry. "Mum, its-"

"It's nothing," she snapped. "She's not your sister anymore, Bill. Death Eaters killed your sister. She's just-just one of them now. If you see her-if you have to-to fight her...You can't look at her as if she's your sister. Otherwise... you'll end up like Ch-Ch-Charlie and P-Percy-"

Suddenly sobbing again, she ran out of the room, with Bill following her.

Ron just sighed again, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he looked down at Hermione and Harry's letter.


	30. Chapter 30

Year Four, Part Ten

Everything changed after the Dark Lord's return became known to the world.

It wasn't exactly like Ginny had imagined it would be. She'd thought they'd be attacking the Ministry or the Order and their Allies every day. She'd imagined it would be basically one non-stop fight.

It wasn't. In fact, they'd barely done anything.

Not to say that there had been no strikes at all.

On the contrary, there'd been the hordes of Dementors unleashed on mostly Muggle areas, giants released near a major Muggle bridge, and the half-dozen or so targeted killings, attacks, and kidnappings.

Ginny and Bellatrix had taken part in three of those; the kidnapping of Garrick Ollivander, the murder of a Muggle family, and the murder of Dedalus Diggle and his wife.

Frankly, they'd all been underwhelming and boring. The Muggles had been asleep when she and Bellatrix arrived, just like Diggle and his wife, and since they'd been trying to keep it all as quiet as possible, Bellatrix hadn't even brought up the idea of torturing them.

Meanwhile, Ollivander hadn't even put up a fight, instead just coming with them quietly and clearly trying not to anger them.

It was almost enough to make Ginny wish for another battle.

She hadn't forgotten the bone-deep fear she'd experienced in Knockturn, nor the feeling of being totally overwhelmed by chaos, but life had just become so  _boring._

Oh, Bellatrix kept her busy enough; since the Dark Lord's return, they'd spent most, if not all of, every day duelling, with Bellatrix pushing her harder than she ever had been before.

She'd certainly improved massively. She wasn't quite able to beat Bellatrix yet, and honestly thought that it would be a while before she'd be able to, but their bouts were lasting far longer than they had at first, and weren't nearly as one-sided as they had been.

Still, it wasn't the real thing. As much as the practice was leading to improvement, she knew that she'd only really grow by being in the situation; she'd only learn to deal with the chaos of a multi-person fight by being in enough of them to get a handle on it.

Of course, practising duelling wasn't all they were doing.

Bellatrix had taken it upon herself to reach Ginny the Dark Arts. It was slow going, with Bellatrix often getting annoyed at Ginny's inability to grasp something that was, apparently, very easy, but they were progressing.

It would have been faster if they had people for Bellatrix to demonstrate on. Most of the Dark Arts, as Bellatrix explained, was concerned with how the human body functioned and how to change it. Rituals and agonizing spells were a large part of it.

Unfortunately, they had no captives who could be used for it. After the debacle in Knockturn, the Dark Lord had executed Lupin himself and had been strangely reluctant to allow them to kidnap more.

It was downright odd, how he had been acting since the failed attempt to kidnap Potter. Ginny was sure that he had a reason for it all, but had he been anyone else, she would have thought he was afraid of something.

It seemed almost like he wanted those most loyal to him around him at all times. He'd sent them on missions here and there, but had expressly forbidden them to go off on their own endeavours, and had repeatedly refused Bellatrix's request to allow her to go grab a few Muggles as teaching aids.

It was very strange, and according to Bellatrix, completely unlike him.

None of them spoke about it, not for more than a few minutes at a time.

None of them even liked thinking about it much.

But Ginny knew that everyone else was thinking the same as she was; Potter's survival of the Killing Curse had been entirely unexpected, and it changed everything.

For almost two months after the attempted kidnapping, Ginny felt like she, and everyone else there, was walking on eggshells.

The atmosphere in the Death Eater headquarters was beyond uncomfortable, and even though they were having successes, it still felt like they weren't getting anywhere.

The Dark Lord didn't do much to improve morale either. He barely spoke to anyone, spending his time locked away in his study with ancient, dusty tomes in dead languages, thinking of things none of the others could begin to comprehend and hissing to his snake.

The only times he spoke was to give orders, and even then he was as concise as possible.

Until the night he summoned all the Death Eaters to his study.

* * *

"Any idea what this is all about?"

Ginny shrugged, glancing at Bellatrix and squeezing her hand for an instant.

Bellatrix didn't even look around, instead just continuing to stare up at the Dark Lord with a pensive expression, chewing softly on her lip.

"I don't know," she said, turning around to face Dolohov. "We haven't heard anything. What do you think?"

"Plans, maybe," he said, looking at the shuffling crowd behind him. "He used to gather us all like this every so often. When he wanted to inspire us. Hopefully something like that."

The Dark Lord sat with his chin on his arm, his large snake curled up at his feet as the room slowly filled up.

Eventually, the last stragglers arrived, and the door closed behind them with a soft thud.

The Dark Lord continued to sit, the flickering light from the floating candles casting strange shadows on his face.

Suddenly, he stood, everyone instinctively taking a few steps back.

"Brothers and sisters," he said, his voice ringing through the room like the tolling of a bell. "Dear friends, loyal companions. The time has come to cast off the shackles the Ministry of Magic has tried to place upon us. The time has come for us to show them true power. The time has come for us to fight in truth!"

He raised his arms high, flames shooting up behind him from no apparent source.

"For nearly two months they have known of my return," he continued, everyone hushing as they strained to hear his near-whisper. "And yet, we have barely damaged them. We have barely struck at them. I have heard your whispers, heard you all wondering why we have not been doing more."

Silence fell, thick enough to drown in.

"And now that I have been back for two months and they have suffered so few losses, they think us weak. They think us defanged. And so they have let their guards down. And when we begin our attack, it will be doubly devastating to those weak cowards who dare stand against us!"

Ginny found herself cheering along with everyone, a bloodthirsty cry torn from her throat.

"Within one year," the Dark Lord promised, silencing their whoops with a wave of his hand. "Dumbledore will be dead. And after that, the Ministry will fall. And then...then, my friends, Britain will be ours!"

"You know what this means?" Bellatrix hissed, pulling Ginny tightly to her.

"That we're not going to be hiding here all the time?"

Chuckling, Bellatrix gave Ginny a quick kiss and then pulled away, her eyes aflame.

"It means he's removing those ridiculous restrictions," she whispered, "and it means I'll be able to get us someone to play with."

* * *

"So he made seven of them?" Harry asked, feeling surprisingly calm.

Beside him, Hermione made a soft noise of disgust, and Ron grunted.

"Indeed. I believe that he did not mean to make seven horcruxes, but rather to keep the seventh shard within his body. As we know, that plan of his failed."

Despite himself, Harry laughed.

It was strange, how even though the task before them was more daunting than he'd have imagined possible, even though he knew there was a prophecy about him and that Voldemort would stop at nothing to capture or kill him, and even though new editions of the Daily Prophet seemed to herald nothing but fresh doom and gloom; even so, Harry felt far better than he had two months previously.

Probably the biggest part of his good feelings was the change in Dumbledore's relationship to him.

Since the day when he'd survived the Killing Curse, Dumbledore had been speaking to him again. More than that, he'd been regularly meeting with him, Ron, and Hermione.

So far, they'd been meeting once or twice a week, with Dumbledore usually showing them a memory in the pensive before giving them some spell to learn.

Harry was quite sure that if not for Dumbledore's earlier explanation about how Voldemort had achieved immortality, he would have been spending all the time in the Pensive scratching his head.

But Dumbledore had explained everything. In fact, as far as Harry could tell, the headmaster had been nothing but open and honest with him.

It was bizarre, how much of a change in Harry's mood that brought. Even if the wizarding world hadn't accepted that Voldemort was back and that Harry wasn't a crazy liar, even if Sirius hadn't been cleared and declared an innocent man; even so, Harry thought he would have still felt almost as good as he currently did, as long as Dumbledore continued to treat him like a person.

Of course, it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Harry had gone to Charlie Weasley's funeral, and once his body was discovered in a field a week later, to Lupin's as well.

Those deaths bit at him, their faces swimming in front of his eyes when he tried to sleep, the thought of them twisting his stomach and filling his belly with acid.

But unlike when Percy and Hermione's parents had been killed, Charlie and Lupin's deaths did not destroy him. They hurt, but he felt able to carry on.

Somehow, Ron and Hermione seemed to feel the same. Ron seemed more natural than Hermione, which made sense frankly, but it seemed sometimes like he was barely present.

Hermione, meanwhile, had been more withdrawn than ever, spending pretty much all of her time with her nose in a book. Usually, when Harry snuck a glance, he caught glimpses of gruesome, bloody illustrations.

Oh, they were all suffering from the events of the last six months. But, as far as Harry was concerned, they were doing as well as they possibly could.

"So," Ron asked, raising his hand and beginning to count on his fingers. "That ring he stole from his uncle, the locket and cup he stole from that old witch-"

"Hephzibah Smith." Hermione interjected.

"Yeah, her. The diary. His snake, you think. And-and Harry. We're still short one."

"A precise summary, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said with a bow of his head. "Although, as I have mentioned, making Harry into a horcrux was a mistake. Nevertheless, you are correct. We are short one. However, we must remember Voldemort's obsession with the Founders. I believe that he would have liked to complete the set, as it were."

"You said the sword's the only thing left from Gryffindor," Harry said, nodding at the display case next to the wall of portraits. "So it's got to be something from Ravenclaw."

"There's nothing left from Rowena Ravenclaw," Hermione said, "Not since her diadem disappeared."

"Miss Granger is correct. However...well, this is a thread that requires further investigation. As it stands, we know of the identity of four of his horcruxes. As for their locations, I believe I may have a lead on one of them, and ideas for the others. His snake, unfortunately, is usually with him."

"Will you take us with?" Harry asked, trying to hide his eagerness. "When you find one?"

One of the portraits, Harry thought it was Phineas Nigellus, muttered about impertinence.

Pursing his lips, Dumbledore leaned back, a faraway look in his eyes.

"I would like to," he said after a bit. "But it would depend on many, many things. Taking too large a crowd could attract unwanted attention. If it is feasible and I believe it will not harm the mission, then yes, I will take you all. It would certainly do you well to see what we are up against."

Silence descended on them, Harry shivering as he wondered what exactly Voldemort would have set to protect the shard of his soul.

"Professor?" Hermione asked a bit timidly a few minutes later. "Not that I'm ungrateful or anything. But sometimes it sounds almost like you're...preparing a successor. Do you-I mean, why do we need to be doing this?"

Chuckling, Dumbledore leaned down, pulling something out of his desk and throwing it into his mouth.

"Jelly bean, anyone?"

Harry took one, and after a moment, Ron did too.

"I have no idea what will happen in the future," Dumbledore said, looking at Hermione. "No-one does. But I do know that while he lives, Voldemort will not rest until Harry is captured or dead. Fair or not, you, Harry, have no choice about fighting this fight. Not unless you wish to just give up and die."

Shivering again, Harry shook his head.

"I do not know what will happen, Miss Granger. And so I must prepare for as many possible eventualities as I can. It is certainly possible that I will not survive to see Voldemort fall. If I have not prepared someone who can take over if that occurs, then I have been remiss in my duty. This is why Alastor knows as well. And this is why, if I do fall, you will confide in Sirius."

"Isn't it a risk? Ron asked. When everyone looked at him, he continued, his ears reddening slightly.

"I mean, if any of us would get captured, he'd know everything!"

His face suddenly grave, the laughter vanishing from his eyes, Dumbledore nodded.

"It is a risk. We are doing what we can to minimize that risk- teaching you three Occlumency, only telling as few as we can- but we cannot remove that risk entirely. But taking that risk, Mr Weasley, terrible as it may be, is far better than doing nothing."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You said that-that the diary affected Ginny so badly because it was a horcrux…"

"And you wish to know why the soul piece that had embedded itself into you did not affect you as badly?"

"Yeah," Harry said softly.

"Firstly, you must understand that this is an area of magic, which has, to the best of my knowledge, never been truly experimented with. You and Voldemort have journeyed across boundaries previously thought to exist. As such, I cannot make a definitive statement. I do, however, think that it was your mother's protection. Her love for you, I believe, ensured that Voldemort's soul could not truly touch your own. Though your body contained them both, Voldemort's soul was an intruder, if you will, and as such was never truly a part of you. Her love, Harry, protected you from Voldemort's ability to manipulate you."

Dumbledore fell silent for a bit, allowing Harry the chance to look down and rub at his damp eyes.

Ever since he'd seen his parents in that strange place between life and death, hearing about them, or even thinking about them, brought tears to his eyes. It was as if, having seen them, having met and spoken to them, having been told that they were proud of him and loved him; it was as if, for the first time in his life, he thought of them as real people, more than just the idea of parents.

"Have you given a thought, Harry, to whether or not you will continue living with the Dursleys?"

Harry nodded, steeling himself.

For some reason, he felt certain that Dumbledore would try to discourage his decision.

"Yeah. I want to live with Sirius."

"As I thought you would," Dumbledore replied, sounding slightly saddened. "And I cannot fault your decision. Very well. Over the summer, Alastor and I will be regularly meeting with you all. In the meantime, I would like you to continue practising your spellwork and Occlumency, and of course, to study for your upcoming exams. If all goes well, I should have the location of one of the Horcruxes within a week. I will inform you then whether or not you will be joining us. Enjoy the rest of the day."

* * *

The Muggle's jaw stretched wide in a silent scream, the tendons on his neck standing out as his whole body went taut.

With a laugh, Bellatrix pressed her wand against his naked thigh again, the smell of burning flesh immediately filling the air.

"Look at it!" She chortled, as the Muggle went mad, trying in vain to flail and free himself.

"Don't you think it's funny? It keeps trying to get away, but it just can't. It probably doesn't even know why we can't hear it. Stupid animal."

Laughing, Ginny walked over to the small table beside the wall and took a drink of water.

They were in one of the basements, a stone-walled room with only a small globe of light illuminating it.

The Muggle, a boy in his mid-to-late teens who Bellatrix had found, was strapped to the wall with thick iron chains on his arms and legs, holding him tight enough that the stone cut into his back.

He was naked, the burned spot where his penis had been looking strange against his pale skin.

Removing it had been the first thing Bellatrix had done, once they'd stripped him and tied him up. She'd said the sight of it offended her.

That had been hours previously, well before his stupid screams had given them a headache and forced Bellatrix to silence him.

They'd been careful throughout, to heal every cut and burn they gave him immediately after inflicting them. Bellatrix wanted to teach Ginny something, and apparently, it was better to use an uninjured subject.

"Ok," Bellatrix said. "Enough play. Come closer."

Putting down the glass, Ginny walked over to her.

"First, we put it under a Body-Bind, like so. Then we do this. I'll teach you this spell later," Bellatrix promised, waving her wand.

Ginny gasped, her eyes widening.

The Muggles chest turned completely transparent, his skin and flesh looking like it had been replaced with a pane of glass.

She could see everything inside his body, blood rushing along in veins and arteries, the heart pumping and the lungs slowly expanding and then shrinking.

The ribcage blocked part of her vision, but it was still more than enough to see.

"That's incredible!"

"Isn't it? But that's not the main point. Remember what I was telling you about the Organ Piercer?"

"You said that it's misnamed and that it isn't related to any stabbing or cutting curses."

"Good girl," Bellatrix said, sending a thrill through Ginny. "But I didn't tell you what it is related to, did I?"

"No. You said you'd rather demonstrate."

"Well, this is very important. We'll talk more about it later, but for now...watch."

Bellatrix pressed her wand forward, until the tip was barely an inch away from the Muggle's chest.

"You'd be able to see no matter what organ it hits," she said, "but it's so much better when it's the heart."

With that, she spoke the incantation for the Organ Piercing curse, giving the strange flick of her wrist the spell required.

The Muggles heart  _exploded_ , a torrent of blood shooting out into his chest cavity, strips of flesh flying out and smashing into the transparent wall of his chest.

He convulsed, dark blood flooding out of his mouth, a soft urk noise escaping his dying mouth.

Chuckling, Bellatrix turned to Ginny.

"So? What is it?"

"It's like an Explosive Hex," she said, her eyes widening. "But that doesn't make any sense! Why does it only affect organs? And it doesn't sound like any of the other explosive spells, and the wand movements-"

"Exactly! But now we have a place to start, don't we?"

Confused, Ginny frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You wanted to know why some spells only affect people, didn't you? Well, this is where we start."

Bellatrix waved her wand, making a wave of flame arise and engulf the Muggle's body with a smell like a barbecue.

"We'll need more of them to use, but we're doing well. Come on, let's go have a duel. Maybe now you'll actually pose a challenge."

* * *

"You're still avoiding Scrimgeour, aren't you?"

Albus nodded absently, adding the finishing touches to his letter.

"Do you think I am wrong to do so?"

Alastor seemed to think about it for a few seconds before answering, clocking his head to one side and scratching at his mangled nose.

"Honestly, I think you're right. Yeah, he got rid of most of Lucius' moles, but we know Lucius wasn't the only one."

"Indeed. It would be nice to have the Ministry's support. Unfortunately, it is not to be."

"We're not doing too badly though," Alastor said in a rare moment of optimism. "We've got, what, six of them arrested and two dead? It's not such bad going for this stage."

"Particularly since Lucius and Pettigrew are two of the six," Albus remarked, signing the letter and waving his wand to make the ink dry. "If only Severus had managed to discern the identity of Voldemort's other tool in the Ministry. Why, if that were the case, I might even take Rufus into my confidence."

Alastor grunted sinking back into his chair with the dour look returning to his face.

"Taking Lucius down took away a lot of their influence in the Ministry," he said grimly. "But none of that matters if we can't deal with You-Know-Who. I hope you're right about this shack, Albus. Otherwise, we're left in the same, shitty position."

Albus sighed, folding the letter and handing it over to Fawkes' outstretched talon.

"I hope so too, old friend," he murmured. "I hope so too."

* * *

The knife ran down her thigh, splitting the skin and slicing deeply into the supple flesh below.

Ginny arched her back with a scream, agony and ecstasy swirling through her in a mind-melting mix.

"You want me to stop, don't you?"

Ginny trapped the next scream between her teeth, nodding her head frantically.

"Tell me, baby. Beg me to stop."

"Please," Ginny managed, forcing herself through the overwhelming sensations flooding her mind. "P-please, Bella, please, stop-"

In answer, Bellatrix jammed her thumb down into the cut, even as she placed her mouth on Ginny.

Her fingers didn't stop working at Ginny's clit, twisting and prodding it.

She was screaming again, shrieking with buckling hips as she rode the waves of pleasure and torment, cresting the hill of an orgasm only to continue rising, her brain turned to mush by the wonder of it all.

With infinite slowness, the pain receded, the orgasm dying along with it. Dimly, Ginny became aware of Bellatrix's wand tip stroking her torn skin.

A hot, pleasant warmth erupted up her leg, the thick cut knitting itself back together as her breathing and heartbeat returned to normal.

Bellatrix rose, her face hovering a few inches away from where Ginny's head rested on the pillow.

It was an intoxicating sight, every line of her face alive in a way that was just exactly her. Noticing the wetness of her juices on Bellatrix's chin, Ginny felt the stirrings of fresh excitement within her.

"Do you remember," Bellatrix whispered in a voice like honeyed silk, "when Greyback asked you who you belong to? Do you remember what you said?"

"I-I said that I don't belong to anyone."

Bellatrix's mad grin slipped for an instant, a flash of what seemed almost like fury replacing it for the blink of an eye.

"You did. But that's not entirely true, is it?"

Her fingers danced over Ginny's skin, tapping the Mark on her arm before making their way down her body to slide between her legs again.

"Who do you belong to?"

"To-to the Dark Lord. And to you."

"That's true. Very true."

Bellatrix waved her wand, and two objects flew out of the chest of drawers.

One was the large rubber dildo she'd made Narcissa pick up for her. They hadn't used it yet, but she'd taken great pleasure in showing it to Ginny earlier that day.

The other was a knife, one that Ginny thought she recognized.

"That's the one you used on Lupin," Ginny asked, somehow managing to keep her voice stable even though her heart was starting to pound. "Isn't it?"

"Don't worry, I cleaned his filthy blood off of it."

"Didn't-didn't you say that it's c-cursed?"

Her voice suddenly went high, a moan tearing out of her throat as Bellatrix's fingers entered her.

"It is. The cuts can be healed easily enough. But the scars never will. They'll be there forever. No matter what anyone does, they'll always be there."

She leaned forward suddenly, seizing Ginny's lips in a tight kiss.

"If the Dark Lord got to mark you," she whispered, her breath hot on Ginny's face, "I think it's only fair that I do as well. I think I'll put my name on you. What do you think?"

"I-I-"

Merlin, but it was hard to think, with Bellatrix's body so close to hers, with the pleasure beginning to surface again, a smouldering flame just starting to catch.

"You want it, don't you?"

"I-I do."

"Ask me nicely. Beg me, love."

She could see it, the wanton, hungry desire alight in Bellatrix's eyes.

The soft bliss between her legs began to spread, burning through her mind and erasing all thought.

At that moment, she could think of nothing she wanted more than seeing that joyous expression on Bellatrix's face.

"Please-please Bella, please. Do it, please. Cut me, put your name on me. Mark me, please!"

"Not very verbose," Bellatrix said, still grinning, "But it'll do."

Her fingers left Ginny abruptly. She groaned, inches away from coming.

Bellatrix moved away from her. Before she had the chance to push herself up and see what was happening, something tightened around her legs and arms, pulling her to the bed.

"Bella, wh-"

"This knife," Bellatrix said, stepping back into Ginny's field of vision and holding the silver blade up with one hand, "will be far more exquisitely painful than any other you've ever felt. Prepare yourself."

Bellatrix moved as she spoke, slowly and gently pushing the dildo into Ginny.

Before it had even come to rest, it began to shake, vibrating and moving back and forth, somehow making Ginny feel as if her clit was being squeezed and rubbed at the same time.

Moaning, she arched her back, the restraints keeping her from rising more than a few inches out of the bed.

"Good, that's good," Bellatrix said, leaning over and kissing Ginny before moving down.

Her hands gripped Ginny's thigh, just below the hip.

"Be steady," she said.

And then she cut.

For an instant, all Ginny could feel, besides the beginnings of a fresh orgasm, was cold, like a block of ice had been applied to her skin.

Then the pain struck.

She started to scream again, her leg trying to buckle but being held in place by the restraints and Bellatrix's hands.

It was worse, far worse than anything she'd ever done to herself. The pain was terrible, as if Bellatrix had somehow cast a Cruciatus on her leg alone.

And through it all the dildo continued to work, providing a thrilling, heavenly accompaniment to her agony.

She was sobbing, crying out Bellatrix's name and half-formed, slurred pleas, her whole body shaking as the sensations flooded her.

And then the pain faded, just for an instant, and the pleasure emanating from her crotch overtook her.

With tears still streaming down her face, she came, a sudden image of Bellatrix's smiling face popping into her mind.

And then Bellatrix started to cut again, the knife slicing through her skin like butter, blood running in rivulets down her leg to pool on the bed.

The dildo didn't stop.

It was all too much, too much sensation to allow for thought. Her mind seemed to shut down, nothing existing but the waves that tossed through her like she was a pile of leaves.

It was something beyond words, a symphony of torment and ecstasy that belied description.

Time stopped, only sensation continuing.

She was screaming, begging Bellatrix to stop, making unintelligible blubbering noises as she pleaded with everything she could muster for it to stop, for it to go on, for the contradictory feeling to just end before she went utterly and irreversibly mad.

Shaking, she wailed, another orgasm tearing her apart.

It seemed to never end, the glorious, horrendous wonder that overtook everything.

Dimly, she realized that Bellatrix had moved far, that the fresh pain was now coming from the area around her knee.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, nothing even existed but the utter bliss and agony ripping her mind to shreds.

She could hear her own voice as if someone was playing a record in another room. It sounded hoarse, the words that broke through the tears disconnected and rambling.

The pain reached a crescendo, and she felt Bellatrix licking along the cuts.

And then, without warning, it all vanished.

For a short eternity, she lay there, panting and sobbing, feeling completely and utterly spent.

Her face felt puffy, her eyes swollen and snot caked along her nose.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she caught her breath, her heart beginning to calm.

The restraints had disappeared at some point. Her leg still felt tender, but none of the agony that had so consumed her remained.

"You did so well," Bellatrix said, giving her a look that filled Ginny with relaxed contentment. "So, so well. Look, love."

Somehow, Ginny found the strength to push herself up onto her elbows.

Gazing down, she saw it.

Carved into flesh, starting from just below her pelvis and ending just below her knee, in large, blocky letters, was the name: Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix dropped into the bed just beside Ginny. Throwing her arms around her, she pulled Ginny close and kissed her gently on the forehead, rocking softly against her.

"You did so well," she repeated, kissing her again. "I love you so much. I love you. Mummy loves you, dear."

* * *

The golden ring sat heavily on Dumbledore's desk, dragging Harry's eyes to it as if through magnetic attraction.

It was still eminently recognizable as the one Voldemort had worn in Slughorn's memory, even if the large black stone had fallen out of it.

"I would have liked for you to accompany us," Dumbledore said, with a nod to Moody, "but, with the shack being located where it was, I felt the possibility of Voldemort stationing Death Eaters in the area was too high. That worry turned out to be false, nevertheless, I am glad that I did not bring you three with."

"How was it protected?" Hermione asked, almost before Dumbledore had finished talking.

"Besides the Muggle-Repelling charms, the shack wasn't," Moody grunted. "Gave us a false sense of security, that did."

"What was there?" Harry asked, finally pulling his attention away from the horcrux.

"The ring was hidden in a small box beneath the floorboards. It was cursed with...well, let us simply say that putting the ring on would have been an easy method of achieving a slow, agonizing demise."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, turning to Moody. "Alastor, I believe over the summer you should start teaching our assistants at least the basics of detecting and disabling cursed objects."

Turning back to the trio, Dumbledore continued.

"There was also an exceptionally brilliant Compulsion Charm on it. Truly, Voldemort outdid himself there. I have never seen a Compulsion as subtle, nor as powerful as that one. Had I been alone, I would doubtless have succumbed. Had Alastor been even a few feet closer, he surely would have as well."

"The Compulsion was to make you put it on?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, smiling at Ron. "And I was about to do so when Alastor stopped me. Remember that. I was expecting there to be traps, and I am a quite accomplished Occlumens, but I still almost succumbed. Why, had Alastor been even a few seconds slower, I would be dead or dying right now."

For someone who had come so close to death, Dumbledore looked remarkably cheerful, his eyes twinkling as he recounted the tale.

"Thankfully, we have removed the Compulsion, and the Withering Curse as well. Now it simply remains for us to kill it."

With a wave of his wand, the display case behind Dumbledore opened, the sword within flying out to land in his outstretched hand.

"This should be most instructive. As far as I know, we are in no danger, but if you would, Alastor?"

Moody nodded curtly, gesturing for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to take a step back before waving his own wand and erecting a shield between them and the desk.

Dumbledore stabbed the sword into the ring.

The ring shook, a thin, viscous black fluid leaking out of it. Harry became aware of a sound just on the edge of hearing, a high-pitched, terrified wail.

And then it was over, the sound ending as the smoke-like fluid vanished and the ring stopped shaking.

"Very interesting," Dumbledore said, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and peering down at the ring. "Very interesting indeed. Well, gentlemen, Miss Granger, three down, four to go."

* * *

"You may rise."

Ginny pushed herself to her feet, gazing up at her lord with anticipatory excitement.

Every time he'd spoken to her over the last few weeks, he'd hinted that he had a mission in mind for her, something big.

It must have been big, whatever it was. Since the night he'd summoned them all to him, he'd barely given her and Bellatrix anything to do, instead telling them to focus on getting Ginny in fighting shape.

Oh, he'd sent them on a few, smaller jobs; they'd helped Greyback capture and infect two children of Wizengamot members, and had killed another family of Muggles, but whenever he spoke about his plans for her, Ginny got the sense that it was something much, much more.

"Draco Malfoy will be returning for his summer holidays in a week," the Dark Lord said, his high-pitched, cruel voice music to her ears. "And I will be giving him his orders then, as well as Marking him. He is to gain us entry and bring a strike team into the castle, whereby he will assassinate Dumbledore and kidnap Potter."

Her hopes came crashing down, a leaden feeling settling in her chest.

Some of her confused disappointment must have shown on her face. He smiled, gripping her chin and forcing her to lift her head.

"You will be his liaison, his handler, if you will. When the time comes, you and Bellatrix will lead the attack force on Hogwarts. And if Draco proves unable to do so, you will be the one to execute Dumbledore."

Her heart leapt, excitement making her blood sing.

Here, here was the chance to prove just how useful she was, here was the chance to show the other Death Eaters just what she was capable of.

No-one would remember her failed attempt to kidnap Potter, not once she had killed Dumbledore.

"I-I will, my lord."

"I know. Draco's job will be to secure the Chamber of Secrets and ensure that apparition is possible into it. He will need assistance from the outside. When the time comes, if he is unable to carry out Dumbledore's murder, you will do it. And as a reward, I will give him to you and Bellatrix to do with as you will."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I won't fail."

"I know. A time of change is coming, and you stand at the cusp of it. You, Ginny Weasley, you will stand at my right hand and help bring our enemies to their knees."


	31. Fifth Year, Part One

Year Five, Part One

With a snarled curse, she snapped her wand sharply upward, making a large clod of dirt fly into the oncoming spell's path.

Before the spell even hit, she was twisting her wand again, aiming not at Bellatrix, but at the ground in front of her.

_'Expulso, Expulso, Expulso.'_

Exactly as she had planned, the ground before Bellatrix exploded in a series of ear-shattering roars, forcing her back.

Meanwhile, Ginny thrust her wand forward, casting a Stunner and a Cutting Curse, both of which she knew Bellatrix would block.

It didn't matter, really, that her spells would achieve nothing. All that mattered was that she got the few seconds she needed to pull off her surprise.

Leaping to the side the instant the spells had left her wand, she focused intently, remembering exactly how it had been when she'd been practising the spell she was about to cast.

Then, flicking her wrist and moving her wand through a semi-circle, she shouted: "Abuot Ketitot!"

Almost exactly like when the Dark Lord had been duelling Dumbledore, shadows began to pool together, darkness forming into solid masses and taking the shapes of monstrous beasts.

Oh, her use of the spell wasn't nearly as good as the Dark Lord's had been. There were far fewer of the creatures than when he had done it, and none of them looked as  _solid_  as his had.

Still, it had the desired effect.

Bellatrix, having finished deflecting her curses, took a step back, her jaw dropping and eyes widening.

Ginny acted before she could get her bearings. Gesturing with her wand like a baton, she sent the shadow creatures running at Bellatrix, hurling out a quick Stunner as she did so.

Bellatrix seemed too shocked to react. She just stood there, a strange expression twisting her lips as she gaped at the approaching creatures.

The red jet of Ginny's Stunner hit her right between her breasts.

As Bellatrix fell on her back, Ginny gave a flick of her wrist and muttered the countercharm.

The creatures fell apart, collapsing into dark, dusty piles just a few feet from Bellatrix's prone form.

 _'I did it,'_ Ginny thought, too surprised to even rejoice fully.  _'Finally, I managed! I did it!_ '

The fact of what she had just achieved struck home. Jumping into the air, she let out a loud whoop, intense satisfaction filling her.

A face appeared at the window of the manor house, peering out at her. She couldn't be sure, not from so far, but she thought it was Mulciber.

Throwing back her head, she began to cackle.

_'Let him see! Let them all see! If I could beat her, I could beat him! Let him think of trying me now!'_

Still laughing, joy making her feel like she weighed nothing at all, she walked over to Bellatrix and resuscitated her.

Impressively enough, Bellatrix was on her feet almost the instant she was awake, with no intervening time needed to get her bearings.

She gripped her wand tightly and stared at Ginny, something that looked almost like fear flickering across her face.

"How did you do that?" She whispered. "When did you learn that? Did  _he_ show you?"

Ginny shrugged, trying not to show how absurdly pleased she was.

"He used it against Dumbledore. I asked him where I could find out about it, after he gave us all that speech. He showed me the book to use, and I've been practising it in secret since then."

She felt her smile grow slightly at Bellatrix's gobsmacked look.

"I wanted to surprise you with it," she said, "Figured I could use it to finally win. Looks like it worked."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. "You taught yourself that spell in secret in less than a month?"

She shrugged, her pride beginning to give way to a slightly uncomfortable feeling, one which was helped along by Bellatrix's calculating stare.

"To-He said that having a yew wand means that I'll take to this type of thing quickly."

Ginny fancied she could see the wheels turning in Bellatrix's head, although she had no idea what her teacher and lover was thinking.

"That could be it," Bellatrix finally said, almost a whole minute of awkward silence later. "Now, let's see if you can beat me again."

* * *

She didn't turn around at the sound of approaching footsteps, instead just sitting and continuing to watch the sunrise, the dewy grass spongy beneath her toes.

A soft, gentle breeze made the trees wave in the distance. A flock of birds twittered as they flew across the horizon, silhouetted beautifully against the sun.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she'd dreamt of Luna. That had woken her up and made her go outside, but it was only then that she remembered what day it was and felt the terrible, crushing sensation.

And after that, her thoughts had only continued to spiral.

Bellatrix arrived, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before sitting beside her.

"I woke up and saw you weren't there," she said. "Is everything all right, love?"

Her eyes immediately swam with tears. It still startled her sometimes, how deeply Bellatrix's displays of affection affected her.

It was odd, really, how the same woman who gleefully cut her while calling her degrading names could later show such love and care.

"Yeah," she answered thickly, "I'm fine."

Sighing, Bellatrix pulled her close, the heat of her body warming Ginny against the predawn chill.

"No, you're not. Tell me what's wrong."

"I dreamt of her. The same one as last time. And then-I came outside to watch the sunrise, and I realized that today's the day the Hogwarts Express goes back to London. And if things had been different, I'd have been on it, sitting with friends-"

Her voice cracked and she shook her head, rubbing at her eyes.

"And then-and then I realized that this year I won't-my mum, she makes us all jumpers for Christmas. Weasley jumpers. This year, I won't be getting one. And it shouldn't matter, it shouldn't, but it does, and it just-"

Tears overtook her, crushing down on her attempts to talk.

She shoved her head into the crook of Bellatrix's neck, sobbing unabashedly while the older woman cradled her and rocked her gently, making soft, soothing noises.

Finally, the throe passed. Still sniffling slightly, she pulled away to continue talking.

"I know I'm doing the right thing," she said, "I don't-don't regret anything I've done. But why does it hurt so much? Why can't it just be good and easy?"

"That's just the way it is," Bellatrix said, "the way life is. The most important things are the hardest to do. That's what gives them meaning. And that's what makes you so special."

Ginny looked up, her breath catching in her throat for an instant.

Bellatrix was gazing down at her, the rising sun bathing her in a warm golden glow, her eyes shining with love and pride.

"It is hard," she whispered, raising a hand and cupping Ginny's chin. "But even so, you do it. That's what differentiates you and me from the weaklings."

Her hand moved, beginning to caress Ginny's cheek as she drew her face closer.

Under the fresh sunlight, every individual strand of hair in her eyelashes seemed to stand out.

"And that, pet, is precisely why you are so incredible. Because it's hard, but you do it anyway."

Mesmerised, Ginny nodded, not removing her eyes from Bellatrix's for a moment.

"Come back to bed, pet."

Smiling, Ginny did so.

* * *

Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window.

She yawned, stretching her arms and sitting up.

"Good," Bellatrix said, "you're awake."

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she threw the covers off and began to get out of the bed.

"Don't you want to stay in bed a little longer?" Bellatrix asked seductively, dropping one hand to rub at her crotch while the other made circles around her large nipples.

Immediately, Ginny felt the first pangs of desire beginning. Her eyes tracked the finger between Bellatrix's legs, hungrily noting the drop of sticky-looking moisture that gleamed there.

"I just wanted the bathroom," she said.

Bellatrix made a shooing gesture before reaching into the drawer.

"Go on, then. I'll be waiting for you."

When she got back out, Bellatrix was lying in the bed, making soft moaning noises as she worked the dildo between her spread legs.

Ginny crawled into the bed, making her way over to Bellatrix and latching onto her lover's tits with her mouth, unable to help herself from grinding against Bellatrix's leg.

Bellatrix chuckled softly, stretching out and slapping a hand against the supple flesh of Ginny's ass.

Ginny's tongue flicked out, mindless lust taking over, urged on by the fingers roaming her backside, shivers arching up her spine as they stroked down her crack and began to probe, gently stroking the skin around her entrance.

"You love to suck on mummy's tits, don't you, slut?"

Ginny moaned in agreement, her legs shaking slightly as Bellatrix's fingers slipped into her.

A series of loud knocks sounded, followed immediately by a bang as the door flew open.

Ginny just managed to keep from biting Bellatrix's nipple.

She spun around, tangling her legs with Bellatrix's and almost falling over, to see a wide-eyed, gaping Draco Malfoy standing at the door.

For a moment, she just stared, confused embarrassment hot in her belly.

Then Bellatrix seized the back of her head with one hand, pulling her to her tits again.

"You know, Draco, dear," Bellatrix said in a conversational tone, "The entire purpose of knocking is to give the occupants a chance to refuse you entry. Opening the door without waiting for a response obviates that."

Hesitantly, Ginny began to lick again, Draco's eyes boring into her ass like needles.

Regardless of her nephew's presence, Bellatrix began to stroke at Ginny's clit again, interrupting only to slowly rub her hand over the letters carved into Ginny's thigh.

In fact, Ginny got the sense that Bellatrix was showing off.

For a moment, she felt quite indignant about it. Then, suddenly and strangely, her bashfulness changed to excitement.

It wasn't like Draco would be touching her or anything like that. If anything, Bellatrix would cut his hand off if he so much as tried.

She moaned loudly, sliding sinuously against Bellatrix and arching her back as she changed positions, placing her head between Bellatrix's legs.

A frantically happy shudder went through her at the sight of Bellatrix's proud, wicked grin.

"Well, Draco?" Bellatrix demanded. "Not that we don't appreciate an audience, but why are you here?"

"I…" Draco cleared his throat noisily, his cheeks flowering as Ginny glanced around.

He was clearly hard, his robes poking out in front of him.

"I wanted to talk to W-Weasley," he said, his voice slightly higher-pitched than she could remember it sounding in the past.

"We're a bit busy now," Bellatrix said. "Go be a good boy and wait downstairs. She'll be along shortly."

* * *

Ginny hurried down the stairs, adjusting her robes to cover the love bite on her neck as she went. Bellatrix had kept her a lot longer than expected.

Honestly, she didn't mind keeping Draco waiting. Of course, they probably were going to discuss how they would carry out the Dark Lord's plans. Still, they had over two months before Draco would be returning to Hogwarts. That was far more than enough time to plan.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she noticed him standing a little bit away. He was lounging casually against the wall, his attention focused on his left arm.

 _'Why didn't he have to do something to earn it, as I did?'_ She thought with a sickly hot pang of jealousy.

"Hey," she called, stuffing away her envy. "You wanted to talk?"

He turned to her, a blush spreading across his face as he dropped his sleeve.

He opened his mouth and closed it, nodding dumbly.

She couldn't help but smile, the sudden realization of how much power she had over the egotistical boy making her want to laugh.

"It's a nice enough day," she said, "let's go outside."

They walked into the grounds in silence, Ginny waiting to see whether he would regain enough of his composure to speak normally.

After a few minutes, he did, the sharp spots of embarrassment fading from his cheek.

"The Dark Lord said that he already told you of my mission," he said, speaking in the condescending tone she'd so despised in school. "I agreed that you could be of assistance."

His lip curled as he spoke, his tone implying that he was doing her a favour.

Red coated her vision for an instant, her left hand curling into a fist even as her right slipped into her pocket and gripped her wand.

_'How dare he? Who the fuck does he think he is?'_

"Of course," he continued, oblivious to her rage, "It is  _my_ mission. I won't have you stealing the credit for this. I wanted to make sure that we have that clear. I'm going to be in charge of it, you'll just be there to help me and pass messages to the Dark Lord."

Her breath caught in her throat, her legs stopping to work for a moment.

The Dark Lord had made it more than clear that she was going to be carrying out the brunt of this operation; Draco would be a big part of it, true, but only because he would be at Hogwarts. She would be his liaison, she would be the one making sure that he was actually doing it properly.

She would be the one to lead the attack team, when the time came.

She steal his credit? If not for his father's fuck up, her plan would have led to them capturing Harry months ago!

She'd given up everything for the Dark Lord, betrayed her family and friends and spent years planning how best to help him, training in secret and suffering Higgs' attentions, and he just waltzed in and thought that he could take over?

He dared talk to her like he was the one in charge?

"Before we start discussing my plans," he said, "I thought I should let you know that if you ever want to-to see what a  _man_  has to offer, I would be more than willing to oblige."

"Draco," she said, keeping her voice as even as possible, "Can I just say something?"

He raised one perfectly styled eyebrow. "Of course."

Her wand was moving before he'd finished speaking, slashing out a non-verbal Cutting Curse.

Draco cried out, his arm moving ridiculously slowly, blood already spurting from his shoulder before he'd even drawn his wand.

Ginny hurled herself forward, smashing him in the chest with her shoulder and dropping him to the ground. As he fell, she dropped to her knees and reached out, gripping him tightly between his legs.

"Crazy bitch-" he huffed, lifting his knees to try and push her off.

Staring into his eyes, she plastered as wide a grin as she could across her face.

And squeezed his balls as tightly as she could.

She rolled off of him quickly, moving to the side just before he vomited.

His sick spewed across his stomach and he began to writhe, a strange, high-pitched wail escaping his half-open mouth.

Standing up, she wiped the dirt and leaves off of her legs and walked back over to him, kicking him in the ribs before dropping into a squat and holding her wand out right in front of his face.

He went cross-eyed, his face paling even more than usual as he tried to focus on the wand.

"Listen to me," she said softly, "and fucking pay attention. You are nothing, Draco. Nothing. The only reason at all that you're even involved in this mission is because you're at Hogwarts.  _You are nothing!_  What have you done for the Dark Lord? How have you shown your dedication? What have you brought in for us? NOTHING! YOU'VE DONE NOTHING! I'VE KILLED PEOPLE I LOVED FOR HIM, AND YOU'VE DONE NOTHING, AND YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME?"

She stopped, suddenly aware that she had jumped to her feet and was shouting.

Draco was staring up at her with abject terror mixed with the agony on his face. She bent down again, sticking her wand into his face once more.

"You need to understand this," she said. "If the Dark Lord didn't want you alive, if he didn't want someone at Hogwarts, I could kill you right now and no-one would dare say anything to me. You don't get it, do you? No-one cares what your parents or grandparents did, no-one cares how much they donated to who. The only thing that matters is what you yourself do and what you can do. And so far, you have done  _nothing_."

Draco whimpered as she pressed the wand against his forehead and concentrated for a second, making it heat up.

"Twice, I had plans that would have brought Potter here. Both times, someone else fucked them up. If Snape hadn't betrayed us, we'd have had him ages ago, and I might even have been able to continue as a spy. If your father hadn't been so eager to gloat, we'd have had him two months ago and no-one would know that the Dark Lord was back. Twice, my plans were perfect and someone else fucked them up. If you make the third, I swear I will make you spend the rest of your life wishing that you'd never been born."

She pulled her wand away and rose, leaving a small, perfectly circular burn mark on his forehead.

He looked furious.

"And if you want to try and get your revenge on me," she said. "Just remember this. I beat your aunt in a duel last week. Do you really think you can take me? While you've been at Hogwarts, learning how to make teacups dance and other useless shit, I've been learning how to kill."

He opened his mouth to say something, and she kicked him in the side before he could.

_'I need to drive this home.'_

"Crucio!"

He began to writhe again, his legs kicking a mad tattoo against the ground as his agonized screams filled the air.

Ending the curse, she stared down at his twitching, shaking form, satisfaction filling her.

_'Now, let's see if he's a quick learner or not.'_

She knelt down again, seizing a fistful of his hair and pulling him to face her again.

There was no anger on his face. There was pain and terror and shock, but no anger.

_'Good.'_

"Tell me," she purred. "Where am I in relation to you?"

"I-wh-what? I d-don't-"

"Am I below you? Are you better than me?"

He shivered, his grey eyes swimming with tears.

"N-no."

"So where am I?"

He swallowed thickly, looking like he would throw up again.

"Y-you're above me. You're better than me."

She patted his head, chuckling softly.

"Good boy. Now make sure that you don't fucking forget it. Because the next lesson won't be as kind. Now get up. We've got a lot of planning to do."

* * *

"Can we come with this time?" Harry asked, before even Ron or Hermione could, speaking the instant Dumbledore had finished his update.

Moody was already shaking his head, scowling at them.

"We don't need half-trained people to have to babysit," he said gruffly. "Just getting down to the damn cave is going to tough. We don't even know what traps he has there."

"Why don't you do reconnaissance first?" Ron asked, still not untangling his fingers from Hermione's.

The sudden change in their relationship had come as quite a surprise to Harry, when they'd told him a week beforehand. He shouldn't have been too shocked, he knew, after the whole Yule Ball debacle the previous year. It was still strange though, thinking of Hermione and Ron doing the same stuff that he and Ginny had done.

As always, he felt that terrible pressure in his chest at the thought of her, a feeling like his heart was going to explode.

He took a deep breath, focusing on nothing but the air flowing into his lungs, allowing his mind to clear.

 _'At least the Occlumency's good for something,'_ he thought wryly.

Well, strange as it was to think of them together, it was clearly good for his two friends to be in a relationship. It made him feel a bit left out, sometimes, but just seeing how much...more normal they both seemed more than made up for that.

"We do not know if Voldemort has some charm set up to detect intruders," Dumbledore said, "Doing so would make his hiding place more conspicuous, for those of us who know how to look, but it would also mean that entering it would draw us into a battle."

"All the more reason to take us with!" Exclaimed Hermione. "If V-Voldemort might arrive-"

"You'd all be liabilities," Moody interrupted. "You're improving, and I have no doubt that you'll continue to. But none of you are ready to fight wizards who want to kill you, and on unfamiliar territory on top of that. You're not ready, and you're not coming with."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, looking like she was fighting the urge to argue.

"So when will you go?"

"Tonight, if all goes well," Dumbledore said. "I must say, we have been making much speedier progress than I would have imagined. Alastor, if not for you, I doubt we would be doing so well."

Moody rolled his eyes.

"Before we leave tonight," Dumbledore continued, "I plan to interview the Grey Lady about her mother's diadem. I may be forced to Compel her, but this is a stone that cannot be left unturned."

"The Grey Lady?" Harry and Ron both asked.

"Ravenclaw's house ghost," Hermione said impatiently before turning back to Dumbledore. "She was Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter?"

Dumbledore nodded, looking sad. "A fact," he said, "that most are unaware of, and one that she prefers to keep that way. I trust that the three of you will be able to maintain her privacy in this matter?"

Feeling oddly chastened, Harry nodded, Ron and Hermione mirroring him to his side.

"Excellent. Well, we shall meet again tomorrow. Hopefully, we shall have an additional Horcrux to destroy, and information about yet another one."

* * *

"Not good enough," Ginny said, raising her wand again. "Again. Legilimens!"

She dove into Malfoy's eyes, swimming into a confusing sea of his thoughts.

Flashes of memories and thoughts wove around her, twisting into an almost bewildering tapestry of his mind.

As she watched, the images began to grow slightly more indistinct and fuzzy, some of them vanishing entirely.

_'At least he's doing something.'_

She gathered her will, forcing it upon him and concentrating on the thought of the Dark Lord.

A series of memories pushed their way forward, growing blurry even as they drew near.

She ignored the first few, focusing on one that lurked behind.

It grew larger, becoming clearer and easier to see. In it, she could see the Dark Lord with his wand pressed against Draco's arm.

Everything around her shook, and she was unceremoniously cast from his mind.

For a moment, she just breathed, regaining her equilibrium.

"Getting better," she said. "But not good enough. I've barely practised Legilimency, and I can see more than enough. If Dumbledore tries it, you'll be fucked."

For a second, Draco looked like he wanted to say something.

Then he nodded, his eyes on the floor.

He'd been like that a lot, since Ginny had shown him how things really stood.

For the last month, she, Rookwood, and Bellatrix had been spending a lot of time with Draco. Rookwood had been showing him the spells he would need to ensure that travel into the Chamber of Secrets was possible, while Bellatrix had been teaching him Occlumency and even including him in their duelling every so often.

He lost every time, of course. Not that Ginny was much better, having only beaten Bellatrix once more since she'd used the Dark Lord's spell, but she at least made a far better show of herself.

Ginny, meanwhile, spent almost all of her time with him planning, teaching him about the Chamber and how exactly they would do it, what time of day would be best to enter and how they would take Dumbledore down. The plan they'd eventually settled on was a good one, Ginny thought. More importantly, the Dark Lord thought it was good.

They'd attack with at least ten Death Eaters, plus they'd bring Greyback and as many of his scum he could supply. The first thing they'd do, would be to attack the students, placing as many under the Imperius as they could and taking hostages.

Then they'd go for Dumbledore. He wouldn't be able to use widespread lethal spells, not when there were so many of his students in the way. Dumbledore was a dangerous wizard, but he was definitely not omnipotent. They could definitely overwhelm him.

And they would.

Still, planning was all well and good, but they needed to make it happen. Draco's attitude was certainly much better since the first time they'd spoken, but he still was nowhere near ready.

His Occlumency, for example, was nowhere near as good as Ginny's own, and she herself was far from an expert. More than that, Rookwood said that he hadn't come close to mastering the spells he needed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

He was silent for a minute, seeming to try and collect his thoughts before he spoke.

"Is it hard? Killing someone, I mean. Was it hard, the first time?"

She smiled, remembering the feeling of Higgs' life being snuffed out.

"Not at all. Just keep in mind that you're doing the right thing. Besides, the only person you need to kill is Dumbledore. And if you can't do it...Well, I'll step in."

He still looked troubled.

"The Dark Lord said-" he started, cutting off abruptly.

She reached out and patted him on the shoulder, feeling him shiver beneath his touch.

It made her want to laugh.

"He said that he'll give you to me and Bellatrix if you can't do it," she said. "Don't worry, you'd make a good pet. You might even enjoy it. I'd definitely make sure to clean your cage and keep you fed."

She did laugh then, a mad cackle brought on by his expression.

It was almost exactly the same as when she'd squeezed his balls.

"You'll just have to make sure that it doesn't come to that," she said. "And you can start by making sure that Dumbledore won't be able to read your mind. If you don't get me out quicker than last time, I'm putting you under the Cruciatus. Legilimens!"

* * *

"A fake! All that for a fake!"

Albus forced himself to stay awake, bringing his will to bear and somehow keeping his eyes open.

He was slumped back in his chair, the terrible memories and overpowering thirst that potion had brought on still pounding in his every cell.

Nevertheless, he would not give in.

"R.A.B," he said, his voice sounding weak, "I wonder…"

Alastor turned to him, stopping his pacing for long enough to focus both his eyes.

"Who do you think it was?"

Albus shook his head, wishing that his head was clearer, that the fog didn't pervade his every thought.

"Regulus Black's body was never found," he said, not even sure what he was going to say until the words had left his mouth. "I believe that it is time we tell Sirius what we have been doing. But first, I think, I must see Madam Pomfrey."

* * *

"You can open your eyes now."

Ginny did, wild joy filling her at the sight that greeted her.

There was a large package on the table, covered in colourful wrapping paper.

"Happy birthday, love," Bellatrix said, leaning forward and kissing Ginny on the forehead. "I'm very happy to have you in my life."

Strangely enough, tears began to form in Ginny's eyes.

"What's wrong?" Beatrix asked, suddenly concerned.

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I'm happy. Thank you. Thank you, Bella."

Bellatrix clapped her hands, nodding to the package. "Well? Open it!"

Ginny did, tearing it as she did.

She gasped, a wonderful warmth spreading through her chest.

A beautiful, and obviously ridiculously expensive necklace lay before her. Large, wonderful emeralds and diamonds were interspaced on a string that glittered like it itself was a jewel.

"Bella," she whispered, her finger hovering a few inches away from one of the emeralds. "This is incredible! Thank you!"

"You did say that your parents had never bought you jewellery," Bellatrix replied, "At first, I was going to have Narcissa fetch something from my vault, but I thought you might appreciate something new. I'm sure you're sick of hand-me-downs."

"This...I've never even touched something half as expensive as this."

Laughing, Bellatrix picked it up and put it on her, her fingers stroking Ginny's neck and sending a shiver through her as she did so.

"Now you have," she said, waving her wand and conjuring up a mirror. "What do you think?"

She looked beautiful. The necklace made an impressive contrast with her pale skin and red hair, but instead of making her natural colours look strange, it seemed to enhance them.

"Bella…" she trailed off, at a loss for words.

"That's not all," Bellatrix said, gripping her hand. "Come along."

Giggling, Bellatrix led her out of their room and down the stairs.

They walked down, Ginny's curiosity growing as they reached the room where Lupin had been kept.

"I know you've been frustrated with not going on raids," Bellatrix said. "Although that will change once Draco's back at Hogwarts. In the meantime, I thought I could finally give you something I've been talking about for a while."

Bellatrix took a step back, gesturing at Ginny to open the door.

Puzzled, Ginny did, walking into the room.

Two people who looked to be in their fifties, a man and a woman, were chained to the wall.

She was about to ask Bellatrix who exactly they were, when the shape of the man's nose caught her eye.

Her breath caught in her throat, terrible, remembered fear smothering her for an instant.

"They're  _his_ parents?" She asked.

"Exactly," Bellatrix purred, walking up behind her and kissing her on the neck. "And we're going to keep them for a while."

* * *

Harry just stared, feeling almost overwhelmed with emotion as Kreacher finished his tragic tale.

The story seemed to have taken everyone similarly; On Harry's right, Sirius sat ramrod straight, his face hard with tears glistening in his eyes. Ron looked almost like he had been punched. Harry didn't need Legilimency to know that he was thinking about another Death Eater, one he desperately hoped would change sides, even if it was too late.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Sirius said, finally breaking the silence. For the first time, he spoke to Kreacher with something bordering on compassion. "I-we'll finish what-what Regulus tried to do. We'll destroy the locket."

Kreacher gave an odd, jerky half-bow in Sirius' direction.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Dumbledore said, his gaze passing across the room. "We cannot thank you enough."

The rest of them echoed his sentiment, muttering out their gratitude.

The real horcrux locket still sat on the table, seeming to drink in the light that fell on it.

It felt...evil, far more than the ring or diary had. It seemed to emanate coldness, an aura of menace radiating off of it.

Dumbledore reached into the small bag on the floor beside his chair, and withdrew the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Sirius," he said, "I believe it rather fitting for you to be the one to do the honours. If you would?"

Sirius stood up and nodded stiffly, taking the sword from Dumbledore with a strange expression, caught somewhere between pride and shame.

"So, I just stab it?"

Standing up himself, Dumbledore shook his head.

"No. It must be opened first. Harry, have you had an opportunity to attempt Parseltongue since you were struck by the Killing Curse?"

Harry shook his head, feeling a little bit stupid.

"No matter. If you would, please try asking it to open."

Nodding, Harry focused in the locket, narrowing his eyes slightly to make the ornate, serpentine S fill his entire field of vision.

Looking at it like this, the S did appear to be a snake. He could just imagine it as one, the emeralds near the bottom its eyes.

"Open," he hissed.

"English, mate." Ron said.

"Ah. I suspected this would be the case. Harry, Ron, Hermione, please step back. Alastor, please be prepared. It may attempt to fight me. Sirius, the very instant the locket opens, you will strike. Do not wait, do not give it a chance to do anything."

Sirius nodded grimly, hefting the sword as the rest of them moved away from the table.

Dumbledore held his wand out, it's tip aimed directly at the locket. He began to mutter under his breath, moving his wrist through figures of eight and other, stranger motions, the wand tip glowing with a bright white light.

Dumbledore's voice rose slightly, a song-like, sibilant incantation in some language Harry didn't recognize rolling off of his lips.

On the table, the locket began to shake, a grey penumbra appearing around it.

And without warning, it flew open.

Sirius didn't hesitate; he stabbed the sword forward in one swift motion, its tip sliding into the open locket.

As had happened with the ring, a high-pitched scream sounded, a black, misty cloud flowing out of the locket.

And then it was over, the screaming stopping, the cloud vanishing, and the locket coming to rest on the table, tarnished and broken.

"Four down," Dumbledore said with grim satisfaction, "and three to go."

* * *

Lisa Higgs began to whimper the instant Ginny opened the door.

Ginny frowned, walking in and waving her wand, making the room fill with light.

Like a rat or a cockroach, the once-plump women shied away at the brightness, holding her claw-like hands in front of her face and sobbing.

Her husband's corpse had been moved.

Wrinkling her nose at the stench, Ginny drew nearer, taking a closer look.

"Merlin," she whispered, disgusted horror filling her. "Look, Bella. Look at his arm."

It appeared that Lisa wasn't taking too well to starvation. Chunks of decomposing flesh were missing from Milton's remaining arm, surrounded by rows of teeth marks.

Not for the first time, Ginny felt sickened by what she and Bella were doing.

It had been...well, she wouldn't call it fun, but it had felt justified for the first week or so, torturing the couple whenever they felt like it. With every Cruciatus she cast, with every bone she broke or cut she made, she felt like she was getting revenge on their son.

Then, in the middle of the second week, Milton had died. Ginny hadn't meant for it to happen. He'd survived her removal of both of his legs, and Ginny thought that he had a bit longer after she'd taken his right arm at the shoulder before she'd needed to cauterize it and give him a Blood-Replenishing potion.

He hadn't.

And then Bellatrix had decided to leave his body there, chained up next to his wife.

To be perfectly honest, she'd felt sickened by what they were doing even earlier. But back then, it had been far easier to convince herself that they deserved it.

But then Milton had died, and Ginny had been ready to just kill his wife too.

Bellatrix had convinced her not to do so.

That was almost three weeks ago. Bellatrix had cast some spell, something that she said would slow Milton's decomposition, even if it didn't prevent it entirely. By now, maggots had infested him and parts of his body were turning into a strange, sludgy mess.

The stench was indescribably bad. Ginny thought that if she had to put up with it for more than a short while at a time she would go completely mad.

It seemed, in fact, that Lisa had. She didn't talk anymore, didn't really do anything other than whimper and sob.

She'd lost a terrifyingly huge amount of weight in the two weeks since they'd stopped feeding her. Every rib stood out clearly on her naked chest, her tits nothing more than bumps.

Of course, it was hard to see her skin properly. The vast majority of her body was covered in cuts and burns and patches where they'd torn her skin off. They'd removed her fingers and toes, removing the skin before breaking the bones and only then slowly tearing them away.

A large hole in her left leg drew the eye, where they'd cut cleanly through to the other side before pasting it with honey and pouring ants in. They'd eaten half her leg before Bellatrix had cleaned them out.

She was, in short, barely even recognizable as human.

Draco had vomited repeatedly, when Bella had brought him in to show him how to properly cast the Cruciatus

"Cannibalism is bad, Lisa," Bellatrix tutted. "Unless it's as part of a ritual. Well? Were you eating him to gain his strength?"

Huddled on the floor in a pile of her own waste, Lisa continued to sob, her frail form looking like it would shatter at any moment.

"Can we just kill her?" Ginny asked, feeling like she was going to emulate Draco.

"It's up to you," Bellatrix said, in a way that told Ginny what she really felt. "But you remember what her son did to you, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I'll never stop remembering it."

"Well, as long as it hurts, she should suffer. We can't keep her alive forever, but while we can, we should make sure that she's suffering for what he did."

"This," Ginny said, waving a hand to take in the broken woman on the floor, "doesn't make me feel better. Haven't we done enough to her?"

"If you're strong enough to-"

"This isn't strength," she cried, "this is just- it's just sick!"

Bellatrix drew back, seeming to grow taller. Her face became hard, her eyes pieces of uncaring coal.

"She's yours," Bellatrix said coldly. "I gave her to you, remember? Do whatever you want with her. I don't care."

"Bella-"

"I don't care," Bellatrix spat. "Do what you want. Weakling."

_'I'm not weak!'_

For the first time that she could remember, a flash of rage shot through her, aimed at Bellatrix.

Heedless to their argument, Lisa continued to sob.

Ginny spun, slashing her wand through the air.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

* * *

"Listen at this," Bellatrix said, holding up the newspaper. "Arthur and Molly Weasley, along with Marcellus and Apolline Delacour, are pleased to announce the engagement of their children Bill and Fleur."

The glass fell out of Ginny's hand, orange juice splashing across the table.

"Fleur?" She spluttered, "She's-she's part-Veela!"

Bellatrix dropped the paper, looking at Ginny with an aghast expression.

"Your brother is marrying an  _animal_." She said softly. "I knew your family's a bunch of blood-traitors, but that's just...absurd."

Ginny shook her head, pushing her plate away.

"Its like-she is pretty, but how can he just…doesn't he even care that he's destroying our blood?"

"Your family needs to be cleansed," Bellatrix said, "It's the only way, pet. If I'd managed before Andromeda got herself pregnant...well, there wouldn't be a filthy half-blood bitch running around with Black blood in her veins. The rot needs to be cut away, otherwise, it'll spread."

"I know," she said glumly. "Draco said he bumped into them all in Diagon Alley. He said it looks like my brother, Ron, is going out with that mudblood."

She sighed.

Gently, Bellatrix placed a hand on Ginny's.

"One day, they'll thank us," she promised. "But we need to save those who can be saved. This Bill, and that Ron too, they're beyond saving. You need to kill them before they can spread their...sickness."

"I know. I know, Bella. And I will."

"You say this Fleur is pretty," Bellatrix said, "Maybe she'll make a good pet. I'm sure we can have lots of fun with something like her."

Ginny nodded, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

* * *

"I just-I wanted to apologize," Draco said, not looking up from his feet. "For the way I spoke to you at the beginning. I shouldn't have spoken like that. I'm sorry."

"No," she said. "You shouldn't have. You're very lucky, you know. I almost cut your balls off."

His face taking on a greenish shade, Draco continued.

"I-if I'd have spent more time here before that," he continued, "If I'd have had a chance to see how the others treat you, I'd have never-"

"That would have required you to be smart enough to wait and think before speaking. You've never been good with that, have you?"

"I-"

He stopped, cutting himself off and looking at the floor again with a blush beginning to spread.

"See?" She laughed. "You're learning. Maybe you're not entirely useless. Mind you, without me, you would have been. You'd best remember that, Draco. Because if you don't, I won't hesitate to ruin you."

He nodded, all seriousness suddenly.

It was true, he had really improved. Part of it, she knew, was seeing the truth of what she'd explained to him that first day of the holidays; who he was didn't matter half as much as what he could do.

The rest of it, of course, lay in the fact that she and Bellatrix would hurt him if he didn't live up to their standards.

"Remember, you don't want to attract any attention. Don't go telling the rest of your friends what you're doing, don't even fucking hint it. And don't let Potter or my brother or their Mudblood see you doing anything suspicious. Just...don't fuck it up. I won't stand for it."

"I won't."

"Good," she said with a grin. "Because I'd rather not break you. Travel safe, Draco. I'd say I'm jealous of you, but before you know it, I'll be coming back to Hogwarts too. With an army."


	32. Interlude VIII

Interlude VIII

Draco sniffed, walking out of the Prefect's cabin the very second the meeting finished with Pansy following him like an eager puppy.

She hadn't stopped prattling since they'd met up, complaining non-stop about how he hadn't visited or even written her over the summer.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't seem bothered that he had barely even replied to her beratement. She just carried on, talking and talking and talking, her one hand lightly stroking the back of his neck all the while.

Last year, his whole body had given a tingle every time that she did that.

Now, it just didn't carry quite the same weight.

Oh, he still appreciated it, of course. Pansy was a pretty enough girl, and she wasn't one of those girls who wanted to wait until marriage.

Still, after the summer he'd been through, his whole worldview had changed.

It had been far more than just the rude awakening that he'd experienced at Ginny's hands. It had been damn near a nervous breakdown inducing realization.

He couldn't simply rely on his family name anymore.

That fact alone would have been terrifying, as if he had learned that their coffers were suddenly and bewilderingly empty, but that wasn't all. No, he'd learned that in the Death Eater hierarchy, he was practically at the bottom of the totem pole.

In truth, it wasn't Ginny's treatment of him alone, on that first day, that had led to his realization.

It was when he'd returned home that day and had, furiously, told his mother what that lunatic girl had done to him.

He'd never seen his mother lose her composure like that.

After slapping him across the face, she had burst into terrified, thankful tears and had cried for nearly ten minutes.

Then she'd spoken for an hour straight, telling him about the things her sister had done, how Ginny was shaping up to be as deranged and dangerous as his aunt, and how his name and blood wouldn't protect him from her, not if the Dark Lord favoured her more than him.

Which, everyone knew, he did.

That had been the beginning of his realization dawning. It had continued over the rest of the summer, with every time he saw the other Death Eaters interacting with Ginny, and what those interactions were like compared to when they spoke with him.

They treated her with an almost fearful respect, like she was a Hippogriff or someone whose good side they really did want to remain on. He, on the other hand, was spoken to with thinly veiled contempt and watched with cool, assessing gazes, as if they were constantly expecting him to mess up.

By the end of the summer, his place had been made very clear to him, much as he didn't enjoy it.

And the only way to advance was to do something that, quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he could.

It was all well and good for Ginny to say that killing was easy, as if her experience could possibly translate to anything he would even want for himself.

The girl was insane, there was no other way to explain it. The way she and his aunt had treated the Higgs'...Even just thinking about it made Draco want to sick up.

It wasn't the type of thing normal people even thought of doing, let alone proved capable.

And Ginny and his aunt  _enjoyed_ it, took a perverse, bizarre pleasure in bringing more pain to those poor people than Draco would have thought possible.

He'd barely managed to cast the Killing Curse when practising on the small animals his aunt had found for him. When Lisa Higgs had been in front of him, he hadn't even managed to cast the Cruciatus.

Could he do it? Could he cast the Killing Curse on a person, watch as the light left their eyes?

Would he even be able to kill Dumbledore?

The alternative was terrifying beyond words. He and Ginny had developed, well, not quite a cordial relationship, but a good enough working one, and yet, he still thought that she would be more than happy to torment him the way she had Terrence's parents.

Terrified as he was of her, though, there was something about Ginny, something oddly attractive that just burrowed into his mind and refused to let go.

He knew it was probably just what he'd seen when he'd walked in on her and his aunt. He'd replayed that memory in his mind dozens of times, but that wasn't the only memory of her that popped into his thoughts whenever he gripped his cock and stroked.

No, absurd and disturbing as it was, he kept seeing the way she'd smiled when she knocked him to the ground and tortured him.

That smile, the way it had brought such incredible  _life_  into her face, the way the sunlight had made her hair look like flame streaming away from her head…

It made Pansy look outright dull by comparison.

Of course, he'd never actually have the chance to do anything with Ginny. Even if she would agree, he couldn't imagine Bellatrix just being fine with him fucking her lover.

But Merlin, what a wild time it would be if he did. If she put even half as much energy into sex as she did everything else, and based on what he'd seen, she did, then it would dull everything he'd experienced with Pansy.

Well, anything was possible. He'd be in communication with her a lot, at least until they carried out the attack on Hogwarts.

And once they did, well... he wouldn't be the lowest of the Death Eaters, chosen for a job only because he happened to be in the right place to carry it out.

If he killed Dumbledore, he'd be the one to have done something even the Dark Lord never managed. He could only even imagine the respect he would get then.

If he managed to kill Dumbledore.

His shoulders slumped, his legs stopping in place as his momentary hope fluttered and died in his chest, a dark, heavy gloom replacing it.

In his heart of hearts, he was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to kill the old man. If he'd barely been able to kill an animal, if he'd balked, as he had, at the idea of practising on a Muggle, he wouldn't be able to kill a wizard, even a blood-traitor as bad as Dumbledore.

He wouldn't be able to do it.

But what could he do? If he even tried to run or otherwise betray the Dark Lord…

Well, it would probably be as bad as suffering whatever Ginny and his aunt decided to do to him. He'd heard about what had happened to Snape, heard his mother's tearful retelling of the punishment a traitor received.

He had to at least try.

"Please, Draco, tell me what's going on! You know I love you, you know you can tell me anything."

Merlin, but she could be whiny. If Ginny wanted to know something from him, she wouldn't bother with the pleading. She'd just force him to tell her.

"Don't worry," he said, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her closer so that he could give her a kiss on the cheek. "It's nothing."

She sighed, loudly and very annoyingly.

"Can we at least go and find a compartment?"

"Yeah, Malfoy. Go have your drama somewhere else, and let us get through."

His first, instinctive desire, was to pull out his wand and spin around.

Somehow, he managed to hold it down, instead just turning around with a sneer and staring at Weasley.

He and the Mudblood were standing there, she with a strange, almost hungry expression, and him with his hand in his pocket.

If Weasley wasn't holding his wand, Draco would kiss a squib.

A retort rose to his lips, something that would hit the blood-traitor where it really hurt; his sister's choice of lord, or his dead siblings and how he would be next, or something about how he was so unlikeable that the only girl he could land was a filthy Mudblood.

_'That would have required you to be smart enough to wait and think before speaking.'_

Ginny's words rang through his mind, making him stop a half-instant before opening his mouth.

If he were to say something like what he had been planning, there would be a fight. Weasley had never had much of a handle on his temper, but just from her expression, it seemed like the Mudblood was as close to breaking as he was. Pansy would be utterly useless in a fight, and even with all his training over the summer, he thought the Mudblood would be able to take him, not to mention the fact that he was outnumbered.

Besides, the more he antagonized them, the more attention they would pay to him. Surely the best thing to do would be to slip entirely under their notice, to not have them even thinking of him.

But he couldn't say nothing, that would be far stranger than him insulting them grievously.

"Come on, Pansy," he said, turning away from them. "Maybe we can review some etiquette. It is a very sad day when my manners are corrected by a Weasley."

Draco could hear Weasley muttering as he and Pansy walked away, but it seemed he had judged it correctly. No spells were cast at them.

Idly, he wondered if this was something he should report to Ginny.

* * *

"I must apologize," Dumbledore said, "For not having updated you all in so long. Alastor and I were following what we believed, sadly incorrectly, to be a promising lead."

So, that's where they had been.

They'd only been back at school for two weeks, but Dumbledore had been absent for almost that entire time.

Even more telling, Moody had been meant to meet with them twice, and both times had cancelled at the last moment, saying that something urgent had come up.

It was rather disheartening, really, to know that nothing had happened.

He knew it wasn't exactly likely, but with how quickly Dumbledore had been tracking and destroying the horcruxes, a part of Harry couldn't help but to expect that it would all just go smoothly and easily.

"So where does that leave us?" Sirius asked, lounging in one of Dumbledore's office chairs as if it was a couch.

Looking at him, Harry couldn't help but smile. He was almost unrecognisable from the depressed, withdrawn man he'd been a year previously.

Being declared innocent, of course, was a large part of that. Sirius could leave Grimmauld Place whenever he wanted, no longer forced to stay inside a house he hated at all times.

More than that, though, Harry thought the fact that Sirius was being included in all of their meetings and was being given things to do, had helped him.

In many ways, he looked like the man he had been in the pictures Harry had seen of him before he went to Azkaban.

Of course, Lupin's death had hit him hard, far harder than anyone else. Still, Sirius was doing better then he'd been since Harry had first met him.

"This," Dumbledore answered, "Leaves us with only guesses and suppositions. We know, thanks to the Grey Lady's testimony, that Voldemort was made aware of the diadem's location. I believe we can safely assume that he retrieved it and turned it into an additional horcrux. Likewise, we know that Voldemort gained possession of the cup. However, we have no clues as to where he has hidden them."

"You didn't really have any clues about that cave either," Hermione said, "And you found that."

Dumbledore beamed at her, fatigue seeming to vanish from his face.

"Precisely! All of the places where Voldemort has hidden them show great symbolic importance."

Dumbledore rose and began to pace before his desk, his long robes swishing out behind him.

"The diary, given to Lucius Malfoy to guard, showing the subservience of his followers. The locket, hidden in the cave where he had declared his might over the muggles unfortunate enough to share the orphanage with him. The ring, hidden in his mother's home. All of these are places of great significance to him. Now, we simply must work out which other locations would hold a similar level of importance."

"Hogwarts," Harry said immediately. "He asked to stay here over the summers. This is the first place he really looked at as a home."

Ignoring Sirius' intense look, Harry continued. "And he was obsessed with the Founders."

"Harry is entirely correct," Dumbledore said with a small nod. "I can think of no place that would seem more suitable to Voldemort than Hogwarts. Unfortunately," he chuckled, looking exhausted again. "Hogwarts is a rather large place, and one full of nooks, crannies, and secrets. I have had the house-elves searching the castle for the diadem or cup since I spoke to the Grey Lady, and so far we have had no successes to report."

"What about the Chamber of Secrets," Ron asked. "Wouldn't that be like, his ideal hiding place?"

"That would have been my assumption as well. However, during the summer after your second year, I assisted poor Severus in harvesting the potions-worthy basilisk parts. While we were there, I did a fair amount of exploring, if I may say so myself. Even with that, I had the house-elves search it."

"What if it isn't in Hogwarts? How will we even know?"

"The elves assure me that they could cover every  _known_  inch of this castle over a course of three months. This would include, of course, many secret passageways and forgotten wings, and rooms such as the wondrous Room of Requirement. If, after that point, they still have not found it, well…At that point, we will have to believe that he either never placed one here, or that he moved it for some reason."

"So we've still some time before we need to rethink things," Sirius said. "Until then, do you have any other ideas?"

"He gave one to one of his followers," Moody said softly. "It wouldn't be too farfetched to think that he did the same with another. Gave it to them and told them to keep it as safe as possible. Which means…"

"When Voldemort was a young man," Dumbledore interjected. "Having a vault in Gringotts was considered to be a sign of great prestige. Of course, this changed after Grindelwald's war, but I believe the impression of the bank, with its elegance and beauty, would have appealed to them. It is very possible that he gave it to one of his followers and ordered them to place it into their Gringotts vault."

"It'd have to be one of the most loyal ones," Sirius mused, leaning forward and rubbing his chin. "Like the Lestranges, or Dolohov, or Rosier."

"Evan Rosier was the last of his family," Moody spat, "And good riddance. But more importantly, it meant there was no-one alive to claim his vault."

"So the Ministry must have seized it," Hermione breathed, eyes wide. "Isn't that the law?"

"It is indeed, Miss Granger. They did seize the contents of Evan Rosier's Gringotts vault, and in keeping with the law, all objects of historical curiosity were placed on auction. Neither Hufflepuff's Cup nor Ravenclaw's Diadem were placed on auction. If our theory is at all correct, I would guess Bellatrix as the most likely culprit. However, all options must be exhausted."

The room fell silent for a moment, even the portraits not making a noise.

Until Sirius burst out laughing.

"You're going to break into Gringotts, aren't you?" He asked, wiping at his eyes. "Please, tell me that you are."

Dumbledore smiled slightly, his eyes alight.

"If you recall," he said, "Quirinus Quirrell, acting on Voldemort's orders, broke into Gringotts and escaped without being captured. I am fully confident that, with some preparation, Alastor and I will be able to better his feat."

* * *

"Ron," Sirius called, just before the redhead could round the corner and enter the Gryffindor common room.

They'd all left Dumbledore's office together, after the meeting. Ron and Hermione had bid him and Harry good night and made their way to what Sirius thought was a broom closet.

They'd left him with no choice but to hang around like an idiot. He'd been meaning to talk to Ron about this for a while, and Harry had noticed something else that made Sirius sure that he couldn't leave it.

Ron turned back, Hermione with him, their hands clasped.

Sirius was quite sure that Harry was right, and that this relationship was good for them. At the same time, however, something about it filled him with immense sadness. It had been their shared grief that had brought them together, their joined loss. He half suspected that they were using each other as a way to escape the pain. Not that it would be such a bad thing, if that was the case, but if that was why they were doing it, and they weren't trying to move forward…

Well, if they broke up, things could get very ugly. And that ugliness would hit Harry in the face. Sirius really did not want to see that happen.

"Hermione," he said with a nod. "Mind if I borrow your boyfriend for a bit? Promise I'll return him in one piece."

"Shouldn't you be asking me?"

"Nope," he answered, winking to Ron as he spoke. "I know to ask the one in charge."

"Fine with me," Hermione said.

"Great. Come on, Ron. Just wanted to talk to you about something."

Sirius coughed obnoxiously as they kissed goodnight, relishing the way they both blushed.

_'Maybe being an adult isn't all that bad. I can be that embarrassing uncle type. Ha, Moony and I could-'_

But Lupin was dead.

For a moment, the grief flooded him enough to almost drop him to his knees.

Tears wove a veil over his vision, that empty ache in his chest making him want to scream and tear out his heart.

 _'Not now,'_ he told himself sternly, forcing the emotion away.  _'I stayed to talk to Ron for a reason, and breaking down isn't going to help anyone. Later, I can think of him and feel however I want. Not now.'_

By the time Ron and Hermione had extricated themselves from each other, he'd gotten himself under control again.

"What's up, Sirius?" Ron asked, as he followed him into the nearest classroom.

His voice was far too casual.

_'He knows, or at least suspects. No use beating around the bush.'_

Sirius plopped down into a chair and gestured for Ron to do the same.

"You heard about my brother," Sirius said softly, once Ron was sitting. "And it's got you thinking about Ginny. Hasn't it?"

Ron hung his head, long hair curling down to hide his face.

"Yeah."

"You can't expect it from her," he said gently. "Ron, you can't even look at it as a possibility. If you do-"

"I fucking know-"

"No," Sirius interrupted, not bothering to modulate his tone. "No, you don't. Listen. Regulus, he turned good at the end, right? He came back to us, his help will lead to Voldemort's defeat, right?"

"Yeah."

"He almost killed me. Twice. He tried very, very hard to do so both times. And one of those times-Ron, one of those times, the time when I came closer than the other to dying, that was three weeks before he vanished."

Ron shook his head, still staring at the floor.

"If they have family members who are blood-traitors," Sirius continued. "The Death Eaters go after them more than anyone else. Honestly, the fact that Bellatrix never killed Andromeda is nothing short of a miracle. Ask Tonks, sometime. Ask her what's happened every time she's been near Bellatrix in a fight. The same as what happens if I'm there."

"She goes for you?"

"Yeah."

Ron lifted his head, finally.

Pain, pain that looked at least as potent as what Sirius felt for Remus, was written in every inch of skin.

Sirius reached out, placing a hand on the boy's shivering shoulder.

"It's not an accident that she killed Percy and Charlie," he said softly. "And if you come face to face with her, and you hesitate because you think maybe she'll one day turn on Voldemort... She'll kill you too. Just remember that."

* * *

"What was that about  _her?_ "

Bill jumped at his mother's shrill cry, his hand instinctively flying to his wand.

Beside him, Fleur reacted similarly, although she actually drew.

"Mum!" He sat back down, his heart pounding an insane drum-beat in his throat. "You shocked us!"

His mother didn't seem to notice, or care if she had. She continued to stare at him, her face white, her nostrils flaring dangerously.

"What," she said, her voice a quiet, furious whip. "Did you say about her?"

"Mum, I'm not sure-"

"Do not lie to me, William. You said something about her and that-that Lestrange bitch. What was it?"

Startled, he looked at Fleur who seemed equally surprised. That hadn't just been pain and anger in his mother's voice. That had been pure, bone-deep loathing.

"Tell me. Now, Bill."

"Death Eaters attacked the Barton's last night," he said. "They'd been given Auror protection, because of how Winston voted in the Veritaserum-"

"Get to the point."

He shared another worried look with Fleur.

"Larson was on duty, he managed to survive when they attacked. He told Tonks, who told me. It was Ginny, mum. Ginny and Bellatrix. And he said-Larson, he was injured, half-unconscious, but they thought he was dead, and he said that they-well, they kissed. And-they were-well, he said it was more than just a kiss."

An expression of such fury and agony appeared on his mother's face that Bill took a step back, feeling like he had when he had been caught 'borrowing' his father's wand at eight years old.

"That terrible, envious...I'll kill her. I'll kill her. I swear it on-on Charlie and Percy, on Gideon and Fabian, I'm going to kill that fucking bitch!"

Shocked, Bill felt his jaw drop.

His mother never swore. Never.

"Mum-"

"In my fourth year," she said, her eyes locked in misty remembrance, that terrible rage still present, "Bellatrix, who was then a third year, asked me to go out with her. I told her, as nicely and politely as I could, that I wasn't interested in girls that way. A week later, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me. He never said why, but he went pale whenever he looked at Bellatrix. And the same thing happened with my next boyfriend. And she kept asking me to reconsider, telling me I'd prefer it, every time she saw me. Luckily, she found someone else to focus on the next year, and never tried to attack your father. But she-until the day I left Hogwarts, she never stopped trying to hex me."

Abruptly, she shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm going to kill her," she repeated, in a voice, that, though soft, made shivers run down Bill's spine. "This is her revenge? I'm going to kill her."

* * *

"Cheers," Dolohov said, raising his glass and tinkling it against Mulciber's, sparks flying as their firewhisky spun around.

It had been a good enough day. The attack had been successful, although he'd been slightly too cocky.

The hex he'd been hit with wasn't anything too serious, but his arm still stung. Well, that was the price of not paying enough attention and assuming that it was going to be easy.

Their target, one Samantha Abbot, who had been an editor for Witch Weekly, had written an impassioned and emotional piece about how every witch and wizard should stand up against the 'Death Eater Menace.'

Frankly, he hadn't assumed that a woman who worked in a job like that would be any good with a wand.

Well, it just went to show. She'd died in the end, of course, with the Dark Mark left hanging over her house.

"Cheers," Mulciber growled back, "And next time, let's hope it's someone prettier and we can take her."

They drained their glasses, the delightful burn in Dolohov's throat a fantastic experience. No matter how much he had now, he still felt like he had to make up for his years in Azkaban.

A cigar and a firewhisky. Just another set of pleasures that had been denied him for thirteen years.

The door to the study opened. He and Mulciber both turned, Mulciber pulling the cigar out of his mouth momentarily.

The newcomers didn't notice them, at first. They were too engrossed.

Bellatrix and Ginny's lips were locked together, their bodies almost too close to make out what belonged to who.

What was clear, even in the dim light of the room, was the white handprint on Ginny's cheek and the blood running down her arm from the deep cut on her shoulder.

Unless she had taken some type of Pain Potion, that cut should have been bothering her.

But she just continued to kiss Bellatrix as if her life depended on it, moaning and making barely-audible noises, as, Dolohov realized, Bellatrix's hand snuck into her robes.

He was just deciding whether or not to say something when Bellatrix noticed they had an audience.

She pulled away from Ginny suddenly, leaving both Mulciber and the girl making disappointed sounds.

"You want to watch us, don't you, Jared?"

Mulciber went perfectly still, not moving an inch, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an answer.

Well, if Dolohov was in his place, he wouldn't know what to say either.

"Well," Bellatrix said, "If you're a good boy, maybe I'll let you."

With a wink and a saucy grin, she left, pulling Ginny by the hand and dragging her out of the room.

"I," Mulciber said a few minutes later, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon them. "Will never fucking understand women."

"I don't think it's so much a matter of understanding women," he said, "as it is understanding those specific two."

"Nothing they do makes any fucking sense. You know, the Dark Lord said Weasley and Bellatrix are leading the Hogwarts attack. It used to be, it'd be Bellatrix and whoever. But now, it's Weasley and Bellatrix. Ginny and Bellatrix, to be precise."

"He's giving her a chance," Dolohov replied. "Besides, that makes sense. She's been at Hogwarts more recently than the rest of us."

"I'll give you that. Doesn't mean any fucking thing else they do does. You saw the cut on her shoulder?"

"Wasn't exactly hard to miss."

"No. Well, the other day, I was outside, and I catch them going at it like fucking rabbits. On the fucking grass, mate. But...They'd been doing their duelling thing, and Bellatrix had obviously won. That girl was all bruised and bleeding, and I saw Bellatrix fucking burning her with her wand while going at her like her cunt was a fucking glove. And you know what Weasley does then?"

"Honestly," Dolohov said, draining his freshly-refilled glass, "I don't think we have enough whisky for that. Besides, how long were you just hiding there watching them for?"

"Long enough for a wank," Mulciber said, "but get this. The girl fucking comes, right. And then Bellatrix says that she must, and I'm quoting now 'Beg mummy to cut you again.' Which she then does. And she fucking gets off on it. Bella's cutting her tits and the girl is coming. Does that sound normal?"

"Jared," he said, seriously, "A few minutes ago you were saying you hope our next mission will be one where you could rape the target. Most people would say that's not normal."

"Either way. Then, later that day, Bella and her are cuddling together and watching the sunset. It's fucking bizarre, mate. I don't think that girl has any real mind left. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Bellatrix was possessing her or something."

Shrugging, Dolohov refilled his glass.

"I think it's something more of Bellatrix taking on the roles of Ginny's mother, lover, trainer, and female role model, and thus becoming exactly what Ginny wants to mirror. But I'm no philosopher. What I can say, is that the girl has some good natural talent, and probably puts in as much work to grow that as any of us ever have, and she's as dedicated as those of us who went to Azkaban. And she's bloodthirsty, vicious, and has the Dark Lord's favour. All of that comes together to tell me to stay on her good side."

"Fucking right," Mulciber said, clinking his glass against Dolohov's again. "I'll still watch them if Bellatrix ever offers again. What the fuck does she mean, be a good boy?"


	33. Fifth year, part two

Year Five, Part Two

 _"I only had a chance to test the entrance to the Chamber tonight,"_ Draco wrote, the words appearing on the parchment in Ginny's hands.  _"But I was able to imitate the Dark Lord's Parseltongue well enough to gain entry. Once the castle has fallen back into its regular rhythm, I will be able to do more."_

 _"I'll tell him,"_ she replied,  _"But you'd better have more news than that in a few days."_

_"I will. In the meantime, I can tell you that there's a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Professor Lennox, he used to teach at Beauxbatons."_

She paused for a moment, staring down at his message before shrugging.

It was definitely useful to know that.

_"Ok."_

_"I ran into your brother and Granger during the train-"_

_"I don't care,"_ she wrote, interrupting his sentence in the middle.

_"But I di-"_

_"Did you kill him?"_

_"No. But I was careful to not allow him to become suspicious of me."_

_"Good. If you did something as dumb as that, I'd fuck you up. Go to sleep, Draco. And find out something useful tomorrow."_

_"I will."_

Ginny heaved a sigh as she folded up the parchment and placed it, along with her quill, on her bedside table.

She had a feeling it would be a while before Draco had anything truly useful to report.

* * *

"Did you see this?" Bellatrix asked, holding up the paper and tapping the enormous purple advertisement.

Ginny nodded glumly, grabbing another piece of toast before the terrified house-elf cleared away the plate.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Bellatrix said, shaking her head. "It really is a pity. They seem like they might actually be intelligent."

"They are. They just never use their brains for anything that matters."

Sighing, Ginny dropped the bread on the floor, the sight of the elf scurrying to pick it up not even raising her spirits.

"It would be nice to have something like that," she said. "If there wasn't much more important things to worry about. When the war's over, we'll need things to keep kids entertained. But they shouldn't be bothering with stuff like that now."

She sighed again, absently tapping her fingernail against her necklace.

"I guess it's better than them fighting us. This way, maybe I won't have to kill them."

"Maybe not. Have you heard anything from Draco today?"

Ginny pulled the parchment from her pocket and gave it a quick check.

No new writing had appeared.

"Nothing really. He said he'll be going down to the Chamber during lunch, and that he should have a chance to start figuring out the enchantments then. He keeps sending me these pointless messages about Hogwarts. It's like he's begging for my attention."

Bellatrix cackled, throwing back her head and shaking with her laughter.

"Isn't it obvious," Bellatrix said once the throe had passed. "He wants to fuck you. He saw you and me and now he wants to get involved."

At Ginny's expression, Bellatrix started laughing again.

"But-but I showed him he doesn't have a chance! He knows I'm much better than him! I put him under the fucking Cruciatus!"

"That's probably why he wants you so badly. Because if you give in to him, it means he's worth something. Maybe if he does manage to kill Dumbledore, I'll let him fuck you as a reward."

"You  _wouldn't!_ "

Bellatrix's smile took on a predatory edge, her eyes glinting coldly.

"Would it really be so bad?"

_'She's just joking, she's just doing it to get a reaction.'_

"Probably not," she said slowly. "He's definitely not the worst looking guy out there. He's actually a bit cute. It could actually be quite nice."

"Aaaaw. Does my little pet have a crush on Draco? You want to fuck him, is that it? I'm not good enough for you? Is that it? You think a  _man_ could do you any good? Is that it, you worthless little bitch?"

Her jovial feelings vanished instantly, panicked alarm replacing them, her blood suddenly running cold.

There had been no humour in Bellatrix's voice, no hint of a joke.

"Bella, I-"

As quick as thought, Bella's hand shot across the table, seizing Ginny by the throat.

"I  _own_ you," Bellatrix hissed, her nails biting into Ginny's skin just around her jugular. "You are nothing without me!"

"Just...a...joke," Ginny rasped, struggling uselessly against Bellatrix's iron grip. "You...started...I...just…"

As suddenly as she had grabbed her, Bellatrix let her go.

Ginny flopped back in her chair, huffing and gasping for air, her heart beating like a bongo drum.

"I'm sorry, pet," Bellatrix said. "You know I just love you so much, I can't control it when you say such hurtful things."

"Sorry," Ginny whispered, massaging at her throat and ashamedly looking at the table.

"Just try not to do so in the future, and we'll be alright. I love you dear. I don't want to hurt you for nothing."

* * *

"Draco says that he has begun working on the enchantments in the Chamber," Ginny reported. "He says that they appear newer than those on the rest of the castle. He believes, and I think he may be right, that Dumbledore placed them there after Potter discovered the Chamber, four years ago."

The Dark Lord nodded, tapping his chin with one slender finger.

"What has he said about the timeframe of dealing with them?"

"He was very hesitant to be pinned down, my lord. He said that he doubts he'll be done by Christmas break, and that was all he would commit to."

The Dark Lord sneered, lipless mouth twisting into a terrifying expression of displeasure.

"Inform him that if he is not done by the winter break, he will be spending it at Hogwarts. And that his laziness will earn him my displeasure."

"I will. My lord, I was thinking...maybe, if Draco hasn't finished by then, over the winter break we could bring in some of the other Slytherin students."

His hand tapped against his armrest once before rising and spinning, motioning for her to continue.

"I was thinking of people like Nott and Parkinson, whose parents are with us. If we bring them in, then we have extra sources of information about what's going on in Hogwarts, and when the time for the attack comes, they can help us."

He gave a soft, sibilant hiss, the snake at his feet rising and slithering out of the room at the sound.

"Yes. When next they are here, you will discuss this with Nott and the Parkinsons."

Behind her, the door to the Dark Lord's study opened.

At his gesture, Ginny hurriedly moved to stand beside his throne-like chair.

"Yaxley. You have news to report?"

"I do, my lord," Yaxley said, striding in and glancing at Ginny before returning his attention to the Dark Lord.

"First, and most importantly: three bills have been laid before the Wizengamot, to be voted upon next Tuesday. One of them, a bill that all Wizengamot votes regarding their fight against us should be kept secret, is of little consequence. The others, I am afraid, are not. Hector Montgomery has suggested the other two bills: One would allow the forced Veritaserum testing of suspected Death Eaters, and for the testimony thereof to be admissible as evidence, while the other is a return to the laws Barty Crouch passed, to allow Aurors the use of the Unforgivables and the like."

The Dark Lord's hands tightened around his armrests, the snake on the floor raising its head and hissing at its master's near-invisible rage.

"I do not believe either of those two will pass," Yaxley hurriedly added. "Too many of the Wizengamot are afraid, not to mention the others who are either allied with us or are under the Imperius. Nevertheless-"

"Tell me of this Montgomery."

"He is one of the most outspoken of our enemies in the Wizengamot. He is a half-blood, and during-"

"Does he have children? A wife? Siblings?"

"He has three children, my lord. Two daughters who are in Hogwarts, and a six year old son who attends Muggle school. His wife-"

"Next Tuesday, you say," the Dark Lord mused, gazing out the window into the dark, rainy night. "How fortuitous. Inform Greyback of this, tell him I want the son turned. There will still be two days from the end of the full moon until the vote takes place. During that time, Montgomery and his wife will be killed. You will then bring me the results of the votes once they have taken place."

"I will, my lord."

"What other news did you have?"

"The Order of the Phoenix, along with the ministry, have begun giving self-defence classes for everyday witches and wizards. Of course, it will take them a great deal of time to be able to face any of us, but it still makes them think that they can fight us."

"Watch them," the Dark Lord said, "and in a month or so, we will kill their most promising student. Let that stand as a warning to the rest of them."

"Of course, my lord. Furthermore, several of the wireless networks and news publications have begun exhorting their readers and listeners to take part in these classes and to fight against us. So far, it has only been rags no one takes seriously like the Quibbler-"

"Inform me when any of the major ones are doing so."

"Of course. In good news, I have managed to have one of Pius Thickness' secretary's assistants placed under the Imperius."

"The time will come," the Dark Lord said coldly, making Yaxley writhe under his stare. "That placing the assistant of an assistant under the Imperius will not be a cause of great celebration. Do better, Yaxley. Leave me."

Bowing, Yaxley made a hasty departure.

"You will serve me better than those," the Dark Lord suddenly said, gleaming eyes focusing on Ginny in the gloom. "Won't you?"

"I will, my lord."

"Already," he whispered, "you are shaping to be my most loyal, my most trustworthy servant. Once you have killed Dumbledore, you will have proven it. Ah, the glory you will reap, the honour you will have earned. I will teach you of magic that even the most powerful have forgotten."

He smiled, his eyes seeming to grow and fill her entire field of vision.

"You enjoy flying, do you not? I will teach you how to fly without need of a broom. I will teach you to make the world tremble at your very name. If you only continue to serve me as well as you have."

Trembling, the prospect filling her with wild joy, Ginny managed to whisper: "I will, my lord."

* * *

Bellatrix's hand continued its slow journey down Ginny's back, the nails tracing sensuous patterns into her skin.

"And then," Ginny continued breathlessly, still shaking with joy from the Dark Lord's pronouncement. 'He said that I'm his most loyal, Bella! He said I'm his most trustworthy, most loyal servant, and he said-"

Bellatrix's hand seemed to turn into a claw, the nails becoming talons and pushing against her hard enough that Ginny could feel the skin breaking.

Ginny moaned, arching her back and raising her hips as she was pressed into the soft mattress.

"What else did he say?"

Had Ginny not been caught up in the excitement of sharing her wonderful news, she would have noticed a sudden ice entering Bellatrix's voice.

"He said that he'd teach me magic no-one else knows! Bella, he said he'd teach me how to fly like him, without a broom! I can't believe it, he just-"

"Wonderful," Bellatrix said, and the harshness in her tone caught Ginny, snapping her out of her reverie. "We should celebrate. I have an idea. Get on your knees."

_'Something's wrong. Something's wrong.'_

"Bella, what's-"

"Get on your knees. On the floor."

Slowly, her happiness evaporating into a cloud of anxiety, Ginny got up and followed her instructions, kneeling on the thick carpet.

_'I've upset her. Merlin, I'm such an idiot, I made it sound like he trusts me more than her.'_

"Bella, you-"

"Hush, love" Bellatrix said, standing up herself and beginning to make her way over to Ginny.

As she approached, Ginny's intimidation began to vanish. Bellatrix was smiling, her eyes sparkling, her swaying hips and breasts grabbing Ginny's attention and pulling it down to the small tuft of dark hair escaping from her panties.

Bellatrix reached her and reached out, seizing a handful of Ginny's hair and pulling her head up.

"You're my good little girl, aren't you?"

Ginny nodded, her mouth suddenly dry, a glint in Bellatrix's eye sending fear rushing through her.

Something crashed into the side of Ginny's head with the force of a racing bludger.

A nauseating pain shot through her head as she was thrown to the ground with her ears ringing and spots dancing in front of her eyes.

"LIAR! ARROGANT, LYING LITTLE BITCH!"

The room spun around her, shards of pain stabbing into her brain at Bellatrix's furious shout.

Dimly, she could make out Bellatrix shaking life back into her hand.

"B-"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

She didn't even think of fighting as strong hands seized her and pulled her back to her knees.

"What," Bellatrix asked in a quiet, dangerous voice, "do you have to say for yourself?"

Blinking madly, Ginny shook her head softly, the dots slowly vanishing.

"Bella, I don't-I didn't mean-"

Bellatrix's arm flashed again, catching her on the left side of the head this time.

Again, she fell, ears ringing and cheeks burning, frustrated, confused tears turning the dots in front of her eyes into diamonds.

"I don't know what's wrong," she cried, pushing herself onto all fours and shaking the hair out of her face. "Bella, I promise, I don't know what you're talking about!"

Silence.

Ginny stayed like that for a few minutes, fighting down the nausea that the pain in her head had brought on and keeping her eyes tightly closed until her vision had returned to normal.

When it had, she looked up to find Bellatrix standing just in front of her, staring at her with a sneer.

"You don't know? You don't know? YOU DON'T KNOW?"

"PLE-"

Instinctively, she raised a hand to block the kick, but Bellatrix deftly side-stepped, aiming for Ginny's side instead of for her face.

The force of the blow sent Ginny flying onto her back, a sickly ache shooting through her ribs.

"Ple-"

"YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME?"

As Bellatrix screeched, she slashed her wand through the air, making a large gash open in Ginny's thigh.

"I DON'T!"

Shrieking with wordless rage, Bellatrix dropped into a squat beside Ginny and began to slap Ginny's face from side to side, punctuating each whack with a hissed exclamation.

"I own you! You're nothing without me! You're mine! Worthless! Useless! Slut! YOU! BELONG! TO! ME! I OWN YOU!"

Ginny began to sob hysterically, curling into a ball and trying to turn her face away from the onslaught, horrified shame overshadowing the physical pain and erasing all thought.

"I WAS SERVING THE DARK LORD BEFORE YOU WERE BORN!" Bellatrix shrieked, making Ginny rise into the air and crash to the ground with a wave of her wand. "AND YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME? HOW DARE YOU?!"

"I DON'T!" Ginny screamed, another cut appearing on her leg, "I DON'T! BELLA, PLEASE! I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!"

"LIAR! CRUCIO!"

Perfect agony wracked her, a thousand red-hot knives stabbing into her every inch of skin, her bones feeling as if they were twisting beyond the breaking point, her head feeling as if it was caught in some enormous machine, something that would squash it to dust.

There was nothing but pain, nothing but pain and the knowledge that her mind would vanish in a haze of torment and that even death would be infinitely preferable to this hell.

And then it was over, the sudden surcease of the torture as pleasurable as anything she had ever experienced.

She was lying, twitching, on the carpet, with bloody puddles having pooled under her leg.

"I-I didn't mean it like that," she sobbed, "B-Bella, I didn't! I know yo-you're better than me! I-I was just saying what  _he_ said! He was just-just saying that to-"

"To compliment you," Bellatrix said softly, walking over to Ginny and dropping to sit on the floor beside her.

Gently, Bellatrix scooted over and, cradling Ginny's head in her lap, began stroking her hair and neck and making soothing noises.

"I don't think I'm better than you! I don't, pl-please, Bella-"

"What are you?"

A ray of hope lit up in Ginny's head, the gentleness of Bella's voice reaching into her and promising that everything would be all right.

"I'm nothing. I'm nothing without you. I-I'm nothing without you. I need you. You-you made me what I am."

"And what else are you?"

"I-I'm a-a Death Eater, I-"

Bellatrix was shaking her head, a beatific smile pulling at her lips.

"You're mummy's little girl, aren't you?"

"I-I am."

"What are you?"

Ginny hesitated, just for a second.

"I'm mummy's little girl."

"And you've been quite the naughty girl."

Sighing, Bellatrix began to stroke Ginny's cheeks, running her fingers over the bright red palm prints.

"Do you know how hurtful it is," She asked, "When you say that sort of thing to me? How can you be so cruel to me? After everything I've done for you, you should be grateful enough to at least think before you talk."

"I'm sorry, Bella," Ginny said, "I really-"

"Don't interrupt, love. This isn't the first time. There was what you said about Draco, and now this. It's like you don't even care how you make me feel. And then you wonder why you make me so angry."

"I do, I-"

Bellatrix's fingers tightened on her face, nails poking just below the eye.

"And you know the worst thing you do? You've made me love you. Now, if I treat you the way you deserve, I'll feel guilty. Do you know when the last time I felt guilty was?"

Bellatrix sighed again, a deep, heartfelt, and almost mournful sound.

"You deserve to be punished," she continued. "But I find myself not wanting to hurt you. I think it might be best for me to take some time away from you, love. I think-"

"No!"

Ginny shot bolt upright, the negation springing to her lips without thought.

"No?"

"Please, Bella, please, don't leave, please! Punish me, please, hurt me, I want you to, just please stay with me! Don't leave me!"

Bellatrix seemed to be turning the idea over in her head as she sat there chewing at her lip thoughtfully.

Tears were pooling in Ginny's eyes again as that terrible fear gripped her, that horrific knowledge that she would be alone, a feeling as if someone was gripping her heart in an icy fist and was about to squeeze.

"Please," she begged, "Please, mummy, please. Punish me. Please, hurt me as much as I deserve, please! Just don't leave me!"

With a look as if she were making up her mind, Bellatrix nodded.

"For you, love. And you know, the Dark Lord did praise you. Maybe you deserve a reward as well."

Before Ginny could ask what Bellatrix meant, the older witch had seized her in a tight kiss, her hand shooting down to Ginny's crotch in a flash and rubbing at her clit.

Ginny began to moan, the sudden switch in sensory input from pain and fear to pleasure and comfort sending a wave of ecstasy through her.

"And now," Bellatrix whispered, raising her wand and placing its tip against Ginny's forehead, "for your punishment. Let's see if I can make you come before I lift the curse. Crucio!"

* * *

"How many of your friends are in the house?" Bellatrix asked, waving her wand in front of the Auror's face. His enormous, frightened eyes tracked it, moving from side to side as if he were watching a tennis match.

He looked young, probably Tonks' age, if Ginny had to guess. He also looked terrified.

Which wasn't surprising, given that he had been captured by two of the most feared Death Eaters and was currently being interrogated in a garden shed.

The shed belonged to the neighbours of Ginny and Bellatrix's current target, one Winston Barton.

Winston Barton was a member of the Wizengamot, and he had made a very foolish decision when he'd chosen to vote for giving the Aurors extra powers.

"We'll let you live if you tell us," Ginny said lightly, "Promise."

"And if you don't," Bellatrix added, "We'll force you to tell us and then kill you anyways. You know who we are. You know what we've done. You want to live through tonight. Personally, I'd rather you didn't tell us straight away, but dear Ginny isn't so fond of the sight of blood."

From her position behind the Auror, Ginny stuck her tongue out at Bellatrix.

"Please tell us," Ginny whispered into his ear, leaning over him and letting her hair brush over his head. "I'd rather not hurt you."

"Just-just the one! Just Larson!"

"And you were the only one outside?"

"Yes!"

Ginny and Bellatrix shared a glance. After a moment, Bellatrix shrugged, nodding towards the bound Auror.

Ginny walked forward, drawing her wand and letting him see her.

"You-you said you'd let me go."

"You're a piece of worthless shit who works for the Ministry and betrays everything magic should stand for. Of course I lied. Sectumsempra!"

His chest split open, cuts that looked more akin to axe-wounds than anything else appearing and spurting thick torrents of blood across the room.

"Just to show you that I don't mind the sight of blood," Ginny said, raising her voice to be heard over his gargled cries.

Bellatrix was on her a second later, her mouth latching on to that spot on Ginny's neck that always made her twitch, her hand snaking into the back of Ginny's robes and squeezing her ass.

"When we've killed these traitors," she whispered, "you're going to beg me to let you come, aren't you?"

Ginny pressed up against Bellatrix, stretching her neck and rubbing her side up against Bellatrix's.

"Yes, mummy."

"And if you're a good enough girl," Bellatrix purred, "maybe I'll even let you cast the Mark. Come, pet. Let's have some fun with these blood-traitors."

* * *

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, the ecstatic sensation that had flooded her and overwhelmed all else vanishing.

Beside her, Bellatrix flopped onto the bed with her arms splayed out, her breasts heaving as she panted.

With the fading of her bliss, the worm of disquiet returned to gnaw at her mind.

_'I have to ask. She won't get upset if I just ask.'_

"Did you mean it?" Ginny asked, steeling herself in case she was wrong and was upsetting her lover with the question.

"Did I mean what, love?"

Ginny swallowed, forcing her apprehension away.

"W-what you said to Mulciber earlier, when we barged in on them. That if he's good you'll let him watch us."

Chuckling huskily, Bellatrix sat up and twisted, placing her arms on either side of Ginny's head and letting her hair dangle down.

"Of course I did. You liked it when Draco was watching us, didn't you? You found it exciting, having an audience, didn't you?"

_'Did I?"_

"Didn't you?" Bellatrix repeated, her voice gaining a slight edge.

"I-I did."

"Of course you did. There's a part of you that loves being a little whore. Maybe I'll even let Mulciber have you if he's lucky enough."

Bellatrix's smile only grew as Ginny's mouth fell open, an expression of shocked horror flickering across her face.

"Let him-"

"You love being a little slut," Bellatrix said, "that's why you didn't kill that Higgs boy earlier, even though you didn't like what he was doing. But it's alright. I'm here now, to make sure that you can get what you need in a way that you'll enjoy."

"I didn't kill him earlier because I was scared to do it!"

Bellatrix laughed again, straddling Ginny's hips and reaching down to seize her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

"No," she said. "You're a natural killer. I don't think I've seen anyone else as good as you at your age, other than me. You're a natural, and you could have done it earlier. But you didn't. Because a part of you liked what he was doing."

Ginny shook her head, images of what Higgs had done to her flashing before her eyes.

_'I could have killed him earlier. But I was afraid. That's it. I didn't like what he was doing, not at all! I didn't!'_

"Ginny, my sweet little baby. It's okay to admit that you liked it. It's okay to admit it."

"I didn't!"

Without changing her expression, Bellatrix twisted Ginny's nipples hard, tugging at them and making Ginny arch her back and let out a soft cry.

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"I do. Bella, I-"

"You trust me, don't you?"

"I-Bella, of course I do."

"You know that I only want you to be happy and to be the best you can, don't you?"

"Of-of course, but-"

"Repeat after me," Bellatrix interrupted, twisting her nipples even further. "Bellatrix is always right."

"Bellatrix is always right."

"Bellatrix knows best."

"Bellatrix kn-knows best."

Releasing her left nipple, Bellatrix ran her hand over Ginny's cheek softly before giving it a light slap.

"Mummy knows best. Say it."

"Mummy knows best."

"Mummy knows what's good for me better than I do."

"Mummy knows what's good for me better than I do."

"Good girl. Good girl. You let that Higgs boy treat you like a toy because you wanted to be one. And that wasn't good for you. He didn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. You want to let Draco have you, and he wouldn't treat you right either. You can't make these decisions for yourself, love. You just can't. If I want to let you feel like a toy, I'll let Mulciber have you, and I'll make sure that he treats you right. Because I love you, and I want every part of you to be happy. But only if you deserve it."

"But I-"

Bellatrix slapped her again, hard enough to leave her ear ringing.

"Who knows best?" She asked patiently.

"You do. You do, Bella."

"Good girl. You're a little slut, aren't you?"

"I-I am."

"And if I decide that Mulciber can have you, what will you do?"

_'If I don't do what she wants, she'll leave me. She'll leave me.'_

"I'll do whatever you say," Ginny whispered, "Mummy."

"That's right, baby. You know, I think there's something you've forgotten."

Bellatrix leaned back, moving her hand down and running it over the scars she'd left on Ginny's thigh.

"What does this say?"

"Your name. Bellatrix Lestrange."

"And what does having my name carved in your skin mean?"

"That I'm yours. That you own me."

Bellatrix leaned forward again, to gently press her lips against Ginny's forehead.

"That's right. You're  _mine._  I can do whatever I want with you. Because I own you."

Her hand shot out again, whipping across Ginny's face twice in quick succession before grabbing hold of her nose and twisting it until Ginny was sure it was going to break.

"I know best," Bellatrix hissed, "and that means when I tell you that you like to be a little whore, you don't argue! You don't argue!"

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I promise!"

"No. You won't. If you do, I'll carve what you are into your forehead for everyone to see."

As quickly as she had grabbed her, Bellatrix let go.

She lay down beside Ginny again, wrapping her arms around the trembling girl.

"I love you so much, dear. All I want is to keep you happy. But why do you have to upset me all the time?"

* * *

_"I won't have it done by break. But I'm sure that it won't be more than a few weeks after that."_

Ginny sighed, shaking her head and staring down at Draco's most recent announcement of his uselessness.

 _"Are you sure?"_ She wrote,  _"Because I'm going to tell this to the Dark Lord. You don't want to keep disappointing him, Draco. Even less than you want to keep disappointing me."_

 _"I'm sure!"_ Draco responded almost immediately, the writing a tad shaky,  _"the castle will be almost empty over break, and we don't have classes, so I'll have much more time down there without being noticed. It won't be more than a few weeks after the break, I promise!"_

_"I hope you're right this time, Draco. We're all getting tired of your excuses. You're sure you're right about how many Aurors there are?"_

_"I'm sure. There's never more than five at a time here. I'll keep watch, of course, and make sure to listen for any changes."_

_"Good boy. Anything else?"_

_"Potter's up to something, with your brother and Granger following him too, of course."_

She sighed again, wishing that she could just reach through the parchment and slap some sense into Draco.

_"You've told me this about five times. We know they're meeting with Dumbledore, we know that Moody is sometimes there and that he's given self-defence classes to those idiots from the DA. We know that you've seen Black in the castle. Do you have anything to add to that? Or do you want me to go the Dark Lord and tell him you keep repeating yourself?"_

Draco's reply was a long time coming.

_"No. I'm sorry. I'll only say it again if I have something to add. How has everything been by you?"_

Not for the first time, Ginny wished that she could just rip the parchment in half and burn the pieces.

Merlin, but a part of her was hoping that Draco would fail, if only so that she'd be able to hurt him as much as she wanted.

 _"Were you involved in any of the recent attacks?"_ He asked, when she didn't answer.  _"I'm sure if you were, you had fun. I really wish that I could be a part of everything, but-"_

 _"Draco,"_ she wrote, interrupting the non-stop flow of his writing.  _"Shut the fuck up. I'm not interested in fucking you, and even if I was, I don't think Bellatrix would be happy. Just do what you're meant to be doing and stop driving me mad with your constant bullshit!"_

With a huff, Ginny folded the parchment again and put it away.

* * *

"Draco says that he won't be ready by Christmas break, my lord. But he says that since the castle will be much emptier and he won't have classes during the break, he'll have more time to work on it. He promised that it'll be done a few weeks after the break by the latest."

The Dark Lord made a soft noise that somehow managed to express his displeasure, the thunder rolling outside accentuating his quiet disappointment.

"He claims to be certain that there are no more than five Aurors in the castle at any time. I would think that Dumbledore has some members of the Order of the Phoenix hidden there as well, but he claims to not know if they are. If we do induct Parkinson and Nott, they can be an additional source of information about that."

"Has he anything further to say about Potter's meetings with Dumbledore?"

"Nothing, my lord, except that they are still occurring."

Hissing to his snake, the Dark Lord rose and walked over to the window where he stood, hands clasped behind his back.

"I fear Draco is proving as much of a disappointment as his father. It is a pity, truly."

He turned suddenly, affixing her with his burning gaze.

"You will be meeting with the Parkinson and Nott children. Make their places clear to them. Ensure that they can cast the Imperius. Their missions will be to cast it on students when we attack and set them to joining our forces. Before then, they will be double-checking Draco's information on Auror and Order of the Phoenix numbers in the castle. That is all."

"Should-should I not have them try to spy on Potter, my lord?"

He smiled, moving over to her and seizing her chin in a swift, lithe movement.

"They are not like you. Few are. I cannot trust them with a mission of such importance. The chances of them getting caught if they were to try and spy on Potter are simply too high."

"As you say, my lord."

"Soon," he promised, "we will enter Hogwarts. And I feel quite certain that you will be the one to kill Dumbledore. And then all will know you for the worthiest and best of our fellowship."

Her heart began to pound, a thread of anxiety spreading through the pure joy that filled her.

"After-after Bellatrix though, my lord?"

His smile grew, serpentine features twisting in cruel, beautiful amusement.

"Of course."


	34. Fifth year, part three

Year Five, Part Three

"And the goblins just didn't realize?" Harry asked, his voice all but shaking with excitement.

Across the table from him, looking more than exhausted but still smiling, his eyes still twinkling, Dumbledore shook his head.

"The goblins of Gringotts possess many traits," Dumbledore said, "thankfully, omniscience is not one of them. It was not easy, even for wizards as talented as Alastor and I, but I believe we were successful. Of course, there is the possibility that the goblins discovered our entry and are simply hiding their knowledge to save face, but I do not think that is the case. No, I am quite certain our foray into the Lestrange vault went unnoticed."

"So there's only two left," Ron said, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "But we don't know where the diadem or snake are, and we still need to kill You Know Who after that."

"At least someone's not too busy congratulating himself to think of the future," Moody growled, shooting a dirty look at Dumbledore.

"We must celebrate every victory," Dumbledore replied, "every one. As it stands, until the house-elves have completed their search of the castle, I will continue to assume the diadem is hidden here."

"How much longer will that be?" Hermione asked, "And do we have anywhere else to look if that fails?"

"When last I spoke with Tipsy, I was informed that the elves will have searched the entire castle besides the Room of Requirement by the beginning of Christmas break. They feel, and I must say I think that they are right, that it would require a large team to search, and during the term they are otherwise occupied."

"And that's the last place left in the castle for them to search?"

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes settling on Harry with none of their former humour evident.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Unfortunately, as the castle has evolved and changed over the centuries, there are countless forgotten rooms and lost areas. However, the chances of Voldemort having found one of these is exceptionally low."

"As for your question, Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued, turning his gaze to Hermione, "I have several theories, none of which are particularly promising, and all of which require further investigation."

"What about the snake?"

"As far as we have been able to tell, Voldemort does still occasionally send her out to do his bidding. However, without a spy within the Death Eaters, we cannot be certain of when that will be. Luckily, it appears that Voldemort takes Nagini along with him when he makes a personal appearance. There is evidence that she was present when he murdered Amelia Bones, and she was certainly present when he came to Knockturn Alley."

"So you'll try and get them both at the same time," Harry said, nodding in understanding, "Once we've found and destroyed the diadem."

"Precisely. How exactly we will drag Voldemort out into the open still remains to be seen. Regardless, we must first find the diadem."

Moody grumbled something under his breath, pulling out his hip-flask and taking a sip.

"I am correct in assuming that you are planning on continuing your Defence Association after the break?"

"We are," Harry said, with Ron and Hermione echoing him.

"Excellent, excellent. Professor Lennox informs me that the members are scoring well above average on the practical side of his classes."

"Maybe they'll even be able to survive an attack," Moody said.

"Disregarding all that," Dumbledore said, giving Moody a disapproving frown, "It is a wonderful thing that you are doing. Hopefully, the students will never have the need to put their skills to the test, but simply giving them the peace of mind that if a situation were to arise, they would not be utterly helpless...my only regret is that this is necessary at all."

Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head and rose, the meeting clearly at an end.

"I am quite confident I will be seeing you at Headquarters," he said, "nevertheless, I wish you all a restful break."

* * *

The deep well of bitterness resisting her attempts to squash it, Ginny bit down on her hand, stifling the sob that tried to escape.

Bellatrix made a soft snorting sound in her sleep and turned over, her shoulder brushing up against Ginny.

At the contact, a wave of terrible fury shot through Ginny like a flash fire, there and gone in an instant and leaving her feeling cold and empty with its passing.

Her throat was still tight and bruised from Bellatrix's treatment, an itch lurking at the back making her want to cough and cough until she threw up.

_'I don't deserve this.'_

The tears came stronger, her body shaking with silent sorrow.

For the last month or so, ever since she'd made that stupid joke about Draco, Bellatrix had been treating her worse than Higgs ever had: Ginny had been placed under the Cruciatus dozens of times, strangled unconscious, beaten, cut, and burned. She'd been insulted until she wept, told that she was worthless and useless and less than the dirt Bellatrix wiped off her shoes before entering the house.

And yet, she couldn't fight back.

She'd thought about it, of course. She couldn't help but imagine shouting at Bellatrix and saying that she was wrong, blocking her curses and actually putting up a fight.

She'd imagined it, thought about it nearly every time after the first few, and yet had never done it.

She couldn't.

Terrible as Bellatrix was sometimes, Ginny couldn't help but love her and want to be with her.

When Bellatrix was cruel, she was nearly as cruel to Ginny as she was to prisoners she was toying with.

But when she wasn't being cruel, she was everything Ginny wanted in a lover.

She was beautiful, kind, understanding, surprisingly gentle, brilliant.

She was everything Ginny needed.

But only when she wasn't being cruel.

_'I should fight back, or argue, or something. I shouldn't just sit there and take it. At the very least, I should talk to her and let her know how much it hurts. If I don't, she'll just think I'm fine with it.'_

But how would Bellatrix take it if Ginny was to try and fight against what she referred to as her punishment?

_'She'd attack. She'd lose her cool entirely and just attack.'_

_'But I'm not helpless anymore. She wouldn't be able to just hurt me, not if I didn't let her.'_

It was true, Ginny had been proving far more capable in her duelling with Bellatrix of late.

Bellatrix still beat her more often than not, but Ginny was winning at least one out of every three duels, and the others were becoming more and more of a close call.

_'She'd probably win. But not definitely. I can beat her, I have before.'_

But fighting wasn't the only possible way Bellatrix could react.

Could Ginny handle it, if Bellatrix was to leave her? If, after everything she'd been through, all the people she'd left and betrayed, the woman she loved and respected abandoned her to loneliness?

Could she manage, alone?

Even if Bellatrix was cruel and hurtful and, well, downright abusive sometimes, surely the way she acted the rest of the time made up for it?

Surely the fact that Ginny had the near constant company of someone who loved and cared for her, even if they didn't always act like it, more than made up for it?

Ginny had been repeating such thoughts to herself for a month, mostly when the fear and horror of her situation seized her and dragged sleep away from her.

Unfortunately, she was beginning to suspect that comforting though the thoughts might be, they weren't true.

_'It isn't worth it. I'm worth more than this. I've even done more than her! What has she done since Azkaban? Twice, I've almost brought Potter to the Dark Lord! I've spied for him, killed my family for him, made plans for him, and she's sat around doing fuck all! It's not fair!'_

She sat up in the gloom, her hands balling themselves into fists as an acidic bitterness pooled in her belly and began to seep through her entire being.

_'He wasn't just talking when he said I'm his most loyal and trustworthy. He meant it! I've proven myself, over and over and over! I tried to die for him! And her sister married a mudblood, and she hasn't even killed her! And she tells me I'm useless!'_

She glanced over at Bellatrix, a hateful fire burning through the ice of her vanishing fear.

As she watched, Bellatrix moved in her sleep again, just a few inches, her motion dislodging her hair and revealing her face.

At the sight, Ginny's fury disappeared, love and shame arising in its place.

 _'I'll talk to her,'_ she decided,  _'If I do it right, she can't get mad. I just need to do it right. She just doesn't realize how much this all hurts me. When she does, she'll lay off, I'm sure.'_

Reassured, Ginny lay back down, snuggling up against Bellatrix and allowing herself to relax.

_'I'm sure she'll understand. And if she doesn't...when Higgs got too much, I didn't just lie there and take it. I won't. I won't. Not anymore.'_

* * *

The soft snowfall continued, the flakes settling into Bellatrix's hair looking like pearls for the few seconds before they melted.

Bellatrix still wore the same inscrutable expression, her blank facing showing none of the exertions of their duel.

Ginny shifted slightly on her heels, wishing that Bellatrix would just say something, that the silence would just stop stretching out for so long.

After making a decision to talk to Bellatrix about the way the older witch had been treating her, Ginny hadn't had to wait too long.

Bellatrix had seemed to be in a particularly good mood all day, one which only continued after she beat Ginny in their duel.

After the duel, Bellatrix had wanted to remain outside in the snow a bit. It was, she said, a pleasure Azkaban had denied her for far too long.

And Ginny had chosen then to talk to her about how the way she had been acting made her feel.

 _'If she attacks,'_  Ginny thought, Bellatrix's continued silence beginning to frighten her,  _'It won't be like a duel. It will be for real. Merlin, I wish I knew what she was thinking!'_

Suddenly, Bellatrix's face melted into an intoxicatingly warm smile.

"You're so adorable," she said, putting an arm around Ginny and pulling her close.

Ginny relaxed, resting her head on Bellatrix's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're stronger than you are," Bellatrix said, "I shouldn't have. I'll be more careful, love, I promise. You know that I don't want to hurt you. But sometimes, you just make me so angry that I can't think."

"I don't do it on purpose."

"I know. And that makes it easier to forgive you afterwards. But it doesn't make it any less hurtful."

"I'll-I'll try to be better, Bella. I will. And maybe...maybe we can get you some muggles? So that when-if I do mess up, you don't need to take it out on me."

Bellatrix chuckled, shaking Ginny with her mirth.

"You are so adorable," she repeated, "Come, love. Let's get inside."

* * *

"Bella?" Ginny asked, slightly timidly. "I'm going to meet with Nott and Parkinson, give them their instructions and all that. Want to come?"

Bellatrix shook her head, not looking up from her book.

"Okay. I'll see you later. Love you."

Bellatrix didn't reply.

 _'Of course she's not going to, idiot,'_ Ginny thoughtas she strode out of their room and began to walk toward the study,  _'She doesn't want to see me taking more responsibility.'_

Things  _had_  changed between them for the better since Ginny had spoken to Bellatrix about her treatment, but she couldn't expect Bellatrix to change entirely overnight.

Of course, carrying out her plan to bring Muggles in to act as her whipping boys had helped greatly: they were the ones to bear the brunt of Bellatrix's fury, not Ginny.

Not only had Bellatrix barely physically attacked her over the previous week, but there'd been very few insults as well.

All in all, their relationship was about as good as Ginny had always imagined one could be.

Stopping just outside the study door, Ginny cocked her head to one side, replaying the interaction she'd just had with Bellatrix in her mind.

_'Of course, if I keep doing things like inviting her to watch me carry out the Dark Lord's orders when she hasn't been given any, it won't stay this good for long.'_

_'I'll think about all this later,'_ she scolded herself.  _'I need to deal with these kids first. They'll probably be exactly like Draco was at first.'_

Sneering, she pushed open the door and entered the study.

Theo Nott and Pansy Parkinson were both inside already, waiting for her.

It didn't look like they were talking or anything: Theo was slouching up against the wall with a sullen scowl on his skinny face, while Pansy was sitting in one of the armchairs looking extremely disgruntled.

"Well," Pansy huffed, "You're finally here, Weasley. We've been waiting for hours, and you-"

Rolling her eyes, Ginny took a step forward and drew her wand.

With a casual flick, she cast a non-verbal Blasting Hex and knocked Pansy out of her chair.

Theo let out a soft, shocked noise, but Ginny ignored him, instead striding hurriedly over to Pansy and grabbing her by the hair.

"I could kill you right now," she whispered, pulling Pansy's hair until her pug face was an inch away from hers. "And no-one would dare say anything to me. If your parents gave me hassles, I could kill them too. Know your fucking place, bitch. When you speak to me, it's with respect. Understand?"

Tears streamed down Pansy's suddenly red face, her throat working soundlessly.

"Understand?" Ginny repeated, pushing her wand against Pansy's chin.

"I do," Pansy said, the sound of tears being choked back music to Ginny's ears.

"Good girl. Get up."

With a roll of her eyes, Ginny let go of her and rose, turning to face Theo.

He didn't look so sullen anymore. His eyes were wide, his face pale.

"Anything you want to say?"

"No. You're the boss."

_'Quick learner.'_

"Your parents should have told you what to expect," she said, looking back at Pansy. Pansy was standing up, bright blotches standing out on her pale face, embarrassed fear alight in her teary eyes.

"You should ask them why they didn't."

"They-they did," Pansy admitted.

"Ah. And you're just too used to being the queen bitch to realize that you're really  _nothing_."

Pansy opened her mouth as if to say something and closed it again.

_'Just give me a reason. I'll fucking ruin you.'_

"Everything I'm going to tell you," Ginny said, "Everything we'll be planning, it's to be kept secret, okay? That means no telling  _anyone_!"

Looking directly at Pansy, she continued.

"No telling Daphne, or Lilith, or any of your other little friends. No hints."

She turned to Theo.

"No telling Blaise, or Draco, or anyone else you talk to. No-one finds out who doesn't already know. Understand?"

They both nodded, muttering their agreement.

"If you tell anyone," she promised, "I swear, I'll make you spend the rest of your life wishing I'd killed you. Not to mention what the Dark Lord will do. Can either of you cast the Imperius?"

Pansy shook her head, looking like she wanted to throw up.

Theo, on the other hand, had strangely horrified interest written in every line of his face.

"I never have," he said, "but I think I could."

"Well, you'll have plenty of opportunities to practice. I got a bunch of Muggles, so if there's any that Bella hasn't killed yet I'll teach you both how. Come on, let's go to the dungeons."

Reaching the door, she flung it open and stepped out, only to find that Theo and Pansy were still standing in the same spots.

"Well?"

"What's this all about?" Theo asked hesitantly, "No-one's actually said anything, other than we need to help the Dark Lord with something and that-that we must listen to you."

"Oh, I can't believe I forgot to tell you!" Ginny said, slapping her forehead. "You're going to help us kill Dumbledore."

* * *

"Mum's drunk again," Ron said, breaking the silence that had settled upon them since they'd finished their meeting with Moody.

His stomach roiling at Ron's words, Harry folded up Lavender's letter and popped it in his pocket.

"Fuck, Ron," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That sucks, mate."

Ron nodded absently, not moving his attention away from the crackling fire. Hermione scooted a little bit closer and threw her arm around him with a small sniffling noise.

"It's like... Ginny's broken our f-family," continued Ron, his voice cracking slightly at the admission. "Dad's always in the shed when he's not at work, playing with his Muggle stuff and hiding from everything, and mum's just drunk and angry. When she isn't crying, that is."

"I thought you said it was better, now that Bill and Fleur have moved back in?"

"It was. Until Bill told her about Bellatrix. And like-mum either loves Fleur or hates her. Just depends on her mood. And don't get me started on the twins. Since they moved out, it's been much worse. Having Fleur there helps, and you too," Ron rubbed his hand on Hermione's shoulder before continuing, "But she wants  _her_  and Charlie and Percy. Sometimes I think she's going crazy."

He shook his head, the reflected flames dancing in his eyes.

"The other day," he said, "she was saying how we should all be less involved in the Order. How she's done with all this death and fighting, that it's far too dangerous. And then an hour later she was drunk and saying how she's gonna kill Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy for taking  _her_ away."

"Fucking hell. Ron, you know that...if you need to get away from the stress a bit...you can always come here. You too, Hermione."

"Mum would lose it completely if I did that. No, we'll be fine. It's just a lot to deal with, you know?"

Harry nodded.

"Enough about that depressing shite. What did Lavender have to say in her letter?"

"Not much. Just telling me about her holiday and all. She's got a new pet rabbit and it managed to-hey! Why are you laughing?"

Ron had started chuckling while Hermione wore an odd smile as if she was torn between amusement and concern.

"Nothing, nothing," Ron said hurriedly. "You're just so cute together."

"We're just friends." He said quickly, a touch defensively.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "she obviously fancies you, and you seem to like her. What's holding you back?"

"You said you almost snogged her before the break," chimed in Ron. "So there's obviously  _something_ there. What's stopping you?"

Harry shook his head, unwilling and unable to put it into words.

How could he explain that whenever he got close enough to Lavender to make a move, images of Ginny flashed before his eyes, making him recoil with his heart pounding?

How could he explain that even though Lavender was nice to be around, she was so childish and innocent in many ways that Harry just wanted to slap her and shout that she didn't understand anything about life?

How could he explain that he knew, all too well, that his even being friends with her was endangering her?

He couldn't.

"Apparently," he said, desperate to change the subject, "McGonagall's been asking people about Colin. She wants everyone to come to her if we see him acting weirdly."

"Colin Creevey?" Ron asked while Hermione frowned.

"Which other Colin? You've got to admit, he has been a bit...strange lately. He missed the last few DA sessions, and Lavender says that his roommates say he's been crying at night. I don't know-"

" _She_  did something to him," Hermione said, her glance at Ron making it perfectly clear who she was talking about. "Remember? She Obliviated him, maybe...I've read that if Memory Charms are done wrong they can have long-lasting effects."

"Wait," Ron said. "McGonagall was asking Lavender about Colin? Why?"

"No, Evelyn told Lavender that McGonagall was asking them all. She also told her what the boys in her year were saying."

"Harry, I'm pretty sure your girlfriend knows more of what's happening in Hogwarts than-"

"She's not my girlfriend, Ron!"

"Whatever she is, she should start a bloody newspaper. I'm telling you-"

Right then, a soft crack split the air, a blindingly bright reddish-golden light appearing as Fawkes arrived.

The Phoenix flew over to Harry, landing on his knee and dropping a piece of parchment from its talons into his lap.

"He-they must have found the last one," Hermione whispered, sounding awed, "What does it say?"

"Dear Harry," Harry read, excitement bubbling up inside him. "I will be calling upon headquarters shortly, with a lovely headpiece in tow. Please inform Sirius, and contact Miss Granger and Mister Weasley if they are not already with you. We have much to plan."

"Just the snake left," Ron said, determination hardening his voice. "And then the head bastard himself."

* * *

The cold wind blew, making her pull her scarf tighter as the tree's branches waved like skeletal arms with the last piles of snow falling from them.

It was Christmas Eve and Ginny was sitting outside alone, dirt caking the seat of her robes.

As she'd chosen.

She wasn't surprised that the gloom had fallen on her again. It came and went, usually pulled by something that made her remember the happiness she'd felt with her family, once upon a time.

It hadn't come on for a while, not like this, but she'd been busy.

It wasn't surprising that on Christmas Eve she'd find herself unable to stop thinking about her family and wishing that she could still love them.

It was stronger than usual though, strong enough to make her wish she'd thought to bring the knife out with her.

She stared out into the darkness, wishing she didn't have to feel. It wasn't fair, that after everything she'd been through, everything she'd done, she should still have to wish that things had been different.

It wasn't fair.

"It's all Potter's fault," she muttered, hardly even aware that she was speaking. "He ruined everything. It would have been perfect. Tom would have come to life, and I wouldn't have to feel  _anything._  It would have been perfect."

Her tears started to flow faster, her heart feeling like someone had reached into her chest and hacked at it.

"I did the right thing! Traitors and Mudbloods, they're ruining our world! The Dark Lord's worth more than any of them! I did the right thing!"

A sob ripped its way out of her, her shoulders shaking.

"Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt? They're not my family anymore, I shouldn't care about them, but why does it hurt?!"

Somewhere in the darkness, an owl hooted.

Ginny began to cry truly, rocking back and forth on the muddy ground and keening, words lost in her agonized sorrow.

It shouldn't have hurt so much. She knew, with every fibre of her being, that choosing the Dark Lord over her family was the right choice.

She'd made her choice years ago and it should have stopped hurting.

But it hadn't.

For how long she sat there, weeping in the darkness, Ginny didn't know.

All she was certain of was that eventually, the well of tears dried up, her sorrow drained out.

Slowly, she pulled herself back together, wiping at her face with icy hands and pushing herself to her feet.

It wasn't fair that she had to feel all of this. Not at all.

"Life isn't fair," she muttered, startling herself when she began to cackle.

"What was it Bellatrix said?" She asked herself as she began to walk back to the house. "I need to take my pain and turn it outwards."

Right then, that sounded like a delightful idea.

"And we do have more prisoners than we really need," she mused. "Ha, I'm sure Bellatrix will enjoy it too. It's been too long since we did something like that together."

* * *

"Come on, Pansy," Theo said encouragingly. "You can do it."

The Muggle moaned, his chains clanking as he tried to pull away from the wall.

Pansy grimaced at Theo, looking for a moment like she was going to make a comment.

Wisely, she didn't.

After their first meeting, it had taken Pansy a week to return to her usual petulant self.

Ginny had set her straight very quickly once that had happened.

Since  _that_  lesson, Pansy barely spoke when she knew Ginny was around, other than to occasionally ask a question.

Ginny preferred her this way.

They'd been meeting almost every day, and frankly, Ginny was starting to really enjoy it. Pansy still hadn't got the hang of the Imperius, but it was fun to taunt her.

Theo was a whole different story.

Honestly, Ginny was finding that she actually liked talking to him. He'd opened up more from their second meeting and onwards, revealing a brilliantly sharp wit and more than a slight interest in the Dark Arts.

It was nice, really, having someone of her own age that she could talk to as a friend, someone who, unlike Draco or Pansy, understood their place.

Ginny got the sense that Theo's father hadn't spoiled him like Draco and Pansy's parents had. He was far more... grounded, not afraid to get his hands dirty, not flinching when Ginny placed a crying Muggle in front of him.

He'd taken to the Imperius very quickly, successfully casting it during their second meeting. Later, he'd told Ginny that his father had been teaching him curses since he'd got his wand, which diminished her impressment somewhat but hadn't entirely removed it.

Part of what she liked about him, Ginny thought, was that unlike Draco or Higgs or Potter or most of the other boys she'd interacted with for that matter, he wasn't interested in fucking her.

He'd only told her after seeing her and Bellatrix kissing, but surprisingly enough, he and Blaise were a couple.

Whatever the reason, Theo was fun to hang out with.

If only the same could be said for Pansy.

"One more try, Pansy," Ginny said, "Then I'm going to start putting you under the Cruciatus every time you don't manage."

"Why do I have to do this?" Pansy cried suddenly, her arm dropping to her side as if it had become too heavy for her to continue raising. "Theo can manage it fine! I don't even want to do this, I don't want to-to attack our classmates and make them fight! Theo can manage without me!"

A horrified expression flashed across her face, her eyes widening and filling with tears as she realized what she had said.

Taking a step back, she raised a hand to her open mouth, her wand falling to the floor with a clatter.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she babbled, "Ginny, I'm sorry, I'll do what you say, I promise!"

Much as it pleased her to her Pansy begging, much as she wanted to punish the stupid bitch, Ginny considered it.

Pansy really wasn't cut out for this. It had been a foolish idea, assuming that the pampered princess would be able to lift a finger to actually help.

_'She's like Narcissa. She'll talk a lot, but she'll never actually do anything. I miscalculated this entirely.'_

If anything, Pansy would probably endanger the whole plan. She wouldn't be able to keep it a secret, and though she'd only tell her friends, she'd still definitely act suspicious enough raise eyebrows.

_'This was dumb. I should never have included her. We'd probably be fine even without Theo, and with him, we should be great.'  
_

Ginny nodded curtly, making up her mind.

"You're a spineless little cunt, aren't you?" She asked, keeping her tone conversational. "But it's fine. It's my fault. So here's what we'll do: I'll Obliviate you of all of this, and you can just go on your merry way. You won't have to do anything. Is that what you want?"

Bright hope dawned in Pansy's eyes, terror draining out if her face.

"You-you mean it? You'd do that?"

At Ginny's nod, Pansy burst into relieved tears.

"Yes! Please, I don't-thank you! Thank you! I thought-I thought you'd curse me, I-"

Ginny's mouth twisted into a sneer, utter disgust consuming her.

 _'She doesn't know what it's like to actually sacrifice anything,'_ she thought.  _'She doesn't know what it's like to do something you don't want to do because other things are more important. She doesn't know what real pain feels like.'_

"Oh, I am going to hurt you. Because you're a fucking pathetic disgrace. People like you are almost as bad as blood-traitors."

"Y-you-"

Ginny waved her wand, interrupting Pansy with a shouted "CRUCIO!"

Pansy fell to the floor, her arms and legs thrashing out as she wailed, her head flopping back and forth and smashing against the floor.

Ginny couldn't help it. She began to laugh, a wild cackle that just shook her and filled her with mirth.

Theo was saying something, but she ignored it, revelling in the total power she had over the shrieking girl on the floor.

Eventually, she released the curse, reaching over and placing her wand against Pansy's twitching forehead.

"Last time I did this, I fucked up. Snape had to go and fix Creevey's mind up. You better hope I don't do that this time."

"That's what happened to Creevey? Everyone's been talking about it."

Ginny half-turned, keeping her wand stuck to Pansy's forehead while looking at Theo.

"Talking about what?"

Shrugging, Theo leaned against the wall, not looking too concerned about the possibility of Ginny ruining Pansy's mind.

"He's been acting very strange lately, they all say. I didn't pay much attention."

"Why not?"

Theo shrugged again. "He's just a stupid Mudblood. Who cares?"

Chuckling, Ginny turned back to Pansy and concentrated.

"Obliviate!"

* * *

"What did Draco have to say now?"

Ginny folded up the parchment, smiling widely.

For once, Draco had given some actual good news. Just in time, too.

Theo and the rest of the Hogwarts students would be returning the following day for the new term. Of course, Draco wouldn't stop working on it, but he would have far less time.

"He's finally managed to disable the warning system. Now he just has a few more enchantments, and we're in. Shouldn't take more than a week or two."

Bellatrix clapped her hands before reaching out and seizing Ginny in a tight hug, pulling her across the bed to her.

"Amazing," Bellatrix whispered, her hand snaking its way onto the scar on Ginny's thigh and beginning to rub the letters carved there. "Amazing. And he won't manage to kill Dumbledore, he's too weak. You'll get to do it. You're going to be the best of us. And all because of me. All because I taught you."

"It's all thanks to you. I wouldn't-I wouldn't be anything without you."

_'Or without Tom, or Barty.'_

"You've done good work, love. The way you trained the Nott boy and Draco, the way you dealt with the Parkinson girl. I'm proud of you, love. No girl could make a mother prouder than you have."

Bellatrix's hand moved, rubbing at the wetness between Ginny's legs.

Moaning, Ginny bent forward, seizing Bellatrix's nipple in her mouth.

"I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too, mummy."

* * *

"Draco is certain, my lord. With the warning enchantments out of the way, he promised that it'll be done in another two weeks at most."

At the Dark Lord's nod, Ginny continued.

"I gave Theo an enchanted parchment, and he will be keeping us informed. He knows about Draco's role, but Draco doesn't know about him. He'll be double-checking all of Draco's information about the Aurors and Order members in Hogwarts."

"What of the Parkinson girl? Did the Memory Charm adversely affect her?"

Ginny swallowed, looking down for a moment.

"Not as far as I could tell, my lord. Bellatrix also checked and thinks that I did it correctly. Nevertheless, Theo will be keeping an eye on her."

The Dark Lord's eyes seemed to glow brighter, burning into her very soul.

"That was an impulsive action. If all is well, then all was well. But if not...I will not protect you from the consequences of your mistakes."

"I'm not afraid of the Parkinsons, my lord."

The Dark Lord smiled, a hand reaching out to stroke her cheek.

"No. But I do not wish our fellowship to be made smaller through internal squabbling."

"I-I'm sorry, my lord. I'll do better in the future."

His grip tightened on her face, long fingers biting into the skin.

"See that you do. You have great potential. I believe that Draco will fail and that you will be the one to kill Dumbledore. You will be the highest of my followers. If you do not ruin it for yourself."

Chastised, her emotions a mixture of shame and excitement, Ginny whispered: "I won't, my lord. I promise."


	35. Fifth year, part four

Year Five, Part Four

"I'm sorry, Draco," Pansy said. "I meant to get you that bottle of gin, I just forgot. Don't be mad, please."

Draco sighed wearily, wishing he could just reach out and shake some sense into the stupid girl.

She, along with the rest of the students who'd left the castle for the Christmas break, had arrived back the previous night.

And the one thing he'd asked her to bring him, she'd forgotten.

In truth, it wasn't just Pansy leaving his gin behind that had him so frustrated and angry. Even with the new security measures, smuggling something as innocuous as alcohol into the castle wouldn't be difficult at all.

It was slightly annoying, of course, but not nearly enough to put him into such a state.

No, he was far more upset by everything that had been going on with his work in the Chamber of Secrets.

Just two days before, he'd finally managed to remove the enchantment that would have warned Dumbledore and the teachers the instant the Anti-Apparition Charm was removed.

And he'd done it without being caught in the trap Dumbledore had laid for anyone attempting it.

And what did he get for it? More scorn, more comments that he should have been finished much quicker, more thinly-veiled threats.

Well, not so thinly-veiled threats. More like absolutely explicit promises of what Ginny and his aunt would do to him if he didn't carry out their plans.

Even that hadn't bothered him  _so_ much. Of course, it would have been nice to receive some of his well-deserved praise, it would have been nice for Ginny to deign to have a friendly conversation with him and not respond to his every effort at making small talk with scorn and insults, but he'd gotten used to all that.

Now, however, that the infiltration of Hogwarts was drawing closer every day, Draco had another thing to worry about.

He'd been ordered to kill Dumbledore, and the closer he came to the time when he would have to carry out that order, the more certain he became that he wouldn't be able to actually do it.

He'd practised his Killing Curse, of course, down in the privacy of the Chamber of Secrets. His aunt and Ginny had made certain that he could do it months previously, and he was still more than capable.

But, Draco knew, it was very different casting the curse on a rodent when he was alone to how it would be with Dumbledore.

Even with the stupid rats he sometimes had to try it more than once, and he certainly didn't feel bad about ending their miserable, meaningless lives.

Draco was quite sure that no matter how many times he tried, he wouldn't be able to cast the curse successfully on a person, even if he managed to get the words out in the first place.

He wasn't even sure why he struggled so much with it. The only thing he could think of was that maybe, just maybe, maybe he didn't actually want to murder someone  _that_  badly, maybe his hatred wasn't strong enough.

From some of the things Ginny had said, it seemed like she wasn't even really expecting him to be able to kill Dumbledore.

Frankly, her comments didn't help his courage.

But if he didn't manage to kill Dumbledore, what awaited him was something worse, perhaps, than death. There was always the possibility that Ginny and his aunt wouldn't be  _quite_ as harsh on him as they had on the Higgs', especially since he'd have been the one to gain them entry into Hogwarts.

It was a slight chance, but at this point, Draco grasped at it like a drowning man reaching for a raft.

Unless he somehow managed to utterly destroy his weakness and kill Dumbledore, it was his only real chance.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Pansy said, sounding near tears. "I meant to bring it. I just forgot."

"What's so funny, Nott?" Draco demanded, spinning around at the sound of laughter.

"Nothing," Nott said, smoothing his face hurriedly. "Just that this is a perfect example of why you should choose brains over beauty."

Draco bristled, his irritation flaring up and making him want nothing more than to curse Nott into oblivion.

Not that he disagreed with Nott, per se, it was just another uncomfortable reminder of his situation.

Once upon a time, none of his year mates, particularly those with Death Eater parents, would have dared insult him or even make a joke at his expense.

Of course, his father's incarceration and ensuing loss of face had changed many things.

"Ironic," he spat, "considering that you possess neither."

Nott just continued to smirk, something that only increased Draco's simmering anger.

With a muttered curse, he left the common room, ignoring Pansy's attempt to say something.

Maybe, he hoped as he walked toward the Great Hall, he'd feel a bit better after eating something. What he really needed was some sleep that was uninterrupted by nightmares and strange dreams, but he was unlikely to get that.

_'Unless...I could try telling Pomfrey that I've been having nightmares. It's possible that she'll give me some Dreamless Sleep."_

Considering the idea, Draco neared the entrance to the Great Hall.

As he did, someone walked out the door. Not looking where they were walking, they collided with Draco, all but knocking him over.

"Watch where you're going," he snapped, before recognizing who it was and sneering.

"Oh, Longbottom. I forgot that if you were any more gormless they'd have to give you a bed next to your parents!"

Longbottom's face went white as snow, shocked fury flickering across his face for the instant before he lunged forward with his hands opening and closing.

Finnegan and Thomas, however, were there, saving Draco the necessity of cursing Longbottom.

The pulled the now red-faced idiot away from him, muttering furiously to him all the while.

Slightly cheered up by the chance to vent some of his spleen, Draco began walking again.

"Funny, Malfoy," an infuriatingly recognizable voice called out, "That you mock Neville's parents. Does that make you feel better about the fact your dad's such a loser his boss left him to rot in Azkaban?"

Some instinct managed to keep him from drawing his wand as he turned to face Weasley, for the rage that bubbled up in him eradicated all thought.

Weasley was standing there, just behind a quickly dispersing group of Hufflepuffs, a look of cold hatred on his stupid face.

Unthinking, Draco opened his mouth, spiteful bile rising to the surface.

"And how do you feel, Weasley," he spat, "Knowing that your sister's murdered half your family and that she probably talks to my aunt about it after sex?"

The instant the words had left his mouth, Draco realized how utterly stupid he had been.

For months now, since the school year had begun, he'd been making an enormous effort to not engage in any serious provocation of Potter and his pals, to not do anything that would draw their attention to him.

And now, now that he was at the cusp of completing his nigh-impossible mission, he'd ruined all of his efforts with one rashly spoken sentence.

For a moment, Weasley stood with no sign that he'd heard.

Then he shot into motion, so quick that only the training Ginny and Bellatrix had put him through allowed Draco to react.

Weasley was only raising his wand when Draco slashed his through the air with a shout of "BOMBARDA!"

It seemed, however, that whatever else Weasley had been doing, he'd certainly been working on his spell work.

He responded faster than Draco would have expected, whipping his wand and silently casting a Shield Charm which sent Draco's Exploding Hex careening off into the wall.

Before Draco could do anything else, Weasley had jabbed his wand forward.

Something burning hot shot right beside Draco's face, grazing his forehead with its passage.

Draco lurched to the side, his lips peeling back into a snarl.

_'Kill him kill him kill him kill him!'_

Forgetting that there was a small crowd watching, forgetting about everything but the rage and hatred that bubbled in him, the seething pit of acid that had been building up for months, Draco slashed his wand through the air, moving it through the motion his aunt had ensured that he learnt.

His mouth opened, the incantation for the Killing Curse on the tip of his tongue.

And he faltered, Weasley's stupid face swimming out at him through his frustrated, furious tears.

 _'I can't do it,'_  he realized,  _'I can't even kill Weasley.'_

And then Weasley's next spell hit him.

He was thrown back, his head crashing roughly against the stone wall.

 _'Ginny is going to be furious,"_ he thought, as darkness began to creep over his vision and unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

 _"How could you have been so fucking dumb?"_ Ginny wrote, the tip of her quill tearing into the parchment.  _"You could have ruined everything! What the fuck is wrong with you?"_

 _"I'm sorry,"_ Draco replied,  _"I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have done it."_

_"Fucking right you shouldn't have! Merlin, Draco, you're...I can't even describe how fucking stupid you are. You're lucky I'm not there, I swear…"_

Ginny dropped her quill and stood up, pacing in front of her bed and rubbing her palm over her face.

It was actually absurd, the latest piece of news Draco had brought her. She'd heard about it the previous day from Theo, but it still enraged her afresh to hear it from Draco.

She hadn't told Draco that she knew about it, preferring instead to see if he'd be brave enough to tell her.

He had been, to an extent. Of course, he hadn't told her exactly what it was he'd said to Ron to so anger him.

No, she'd heard about that from Theo.

The fact that Draco had been stupid enough to taunt Ron was one thing.

The fact that he dared to use her to do so?

Well, that was another thing entirely.

 _'Even if he does somehow manage to kill Dumbledore,'_ she thought furiously as she dropped back into the bed,  _'I'm going to fuck him up for that.'_

In her momentary absence, Draco had continued to write.

_"I'm getting out of the Hospital Wing this evening. I'll carry on working on the enchantments tonight. This won't hold us back, I promise."_

_"You've been promising shit since the day you went back to Hogwarts. If you don't deliver this time…You said it'll be done next week, and we started planning for that. So I'm going to hold you to it. Next Monday, we're coming in. If you haven't done it by then, for every extra day you take I'm going to take a finger and toe. Don't fuck with me, Draco. I'm angry enough as it is."_

_"It'll be done by then. It will, I promise. I'm sorry, Ginny. I shouldn't-"_

_"Fuck off already. Just do what you're supposed to!"_

Grumbling under her breath, she crumpled the parchment into a ball and threw it across the room, only getting more annoyed when she immediately realized that she would still need it and so couldn't throw it out.

Bellatrix walked into the room as Ginny was summoning the parchment back to her.

Raising an eyebrow, she walked over and sat at the foot of the bed.

"So?"

"He told me about it," she said, still seething, "But not what he said. He's getting out of the Hospital Wing today, he says he'll still have the Chamber ready by next week."

"Don't tell me you really expected him to actually tell you what he said," Bellatrix laughed. "I know you can be stupid sometimes, but that would be a new achievement in foolishness, even for you."

Ginny shook her head, ignoring the little spot of annoyance Bellatrix's words brought up.

"I didn't," she said, "but it doesn't matter. When we're done, I'm going to punish him for that. I just...I just want Dumbledore to be dead already. Then we can actually take over this shitty country.

"Don't go expecting it to happen overnight," Bellatrix warned. "But it will be much closer. And the journey will be all the more fun."

"Do you ever think about what you'll do after?"

"After?" Bellatrix asked.

"After we win, I mean. I used to think-I used to think I'd play Quidditch or something like that. Now I think it'd bore me."

"I think it's best to just live in the moment, love," Bellatrix sighed as she lay back and reached out to twine a few strands of Ginny's hair around her fingers. "But I think it'll be much the same as now. Except we won't need to hide if we want to go out."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Ginny said wistfully. "That'll be quite nice, actually."

"First, let's kill Dumbledore. Then we can worry about what comes next."

_'First, let's have Draco actually fucking do something.'_

* * *

"As I have mentioned," Dumbledore said, leaning forward with his chin resting on the tips of his steepled fingers, "Since poor Severus' passing, discovering in-depth information about Voldemort's plans has been a herculean task."

"Could just ask Malfoy," Ron grunted, "he seems to know more than his share about what's going on with them."

Dumbledore simply looked at Ron. After a few moments of silence, Ron began to look quite uncomfortable.

Not that Harry could blame him. Having been on the receiving end of Dumbledore's unimpressed gaze in the past, he knew all too well how piercing those blue eyes could be.

"Well, he does! The way he was talking about  _her,_ I wouldn't be surprised if he'd seen them!"

"It is certainly possible," Dumbledore said. " _I_ would not be surprised were Draco to be discovered giving Voldemort information on every event that occurs in this castle. I would, however, be exceptionally surprised if Draco were to have been told Voldemort's plans. Voldemort is not in the habit of sharing information, particularly with those who have not yet proven their unwavering loyalty."

 _'Like Ginny has,'_ Harry thought with a pang.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued smoothly, "We are lacking a spy, and it is very difficult to capture Death Eaters who would know Voldemort's plan, let alone to induce them to talk."

"The Veritaserum bill would have helped with that," Moody grumbled, "but of course, they stopped that from passing."

"So what," Harry said, "We're just going to wait for him to do something? You must have  _something_!"

Dumbledore nodded gravely, idly tapping one of his hands on his desk.

"There are many individuals," he said, "who are associated with the Death Eaters but not truly amongst them. Fenrir Greyback and his followers, for example, or many of the unsavoury fellows who spend their days in Knockturn Alley. If we prove capable of receiving information from those individuals, we at least have something, as you put it, Harry."

"And you think any of them would be willing to work with us?"

Moody gave an approving nod at Ron's words.

"They will," Dumbledore said calmly, "provided that we can give them a better offer than Voldemort can. Even without their help, we will manage, eventually. It is simply a matter of arranging the correct circumstances."

"So for now…" Hermione started, trailing off when it was clear she wasn't sure how to continue.

"For now, we continue as we have. Planning for the future, fighting the battles as they come, and ensuring that everyone who wishes to learn how to fight has that chance."

Dumbledore looked at each of the three of them in turn, his small smile at odds with the serious expression he wore.

"And when the time comes," he said, "We ensure that Voldemort falls."

* * *

_"It's done."_

Ginny just stared down at the parchment, almost too excited to think.

Finally, after all this time, after all their planning, finally they'd be able to actually do it.

 _"Excellent,"_ she wrote,  _"And just in time, too. Well done, Draco."_

_"Thank you. You said the plan is to come in tomorrow night?"_

_"Yes. But we'll let you know exactly what we want from you closer to then. You'll have to do some preparations for us before then. We'll speak tomorrow."_

Anticipatory adrenaline thrumming through her, Ginny folded up the parchment and put it away, an enormous grin splitting her face.

Finally, the time to actually attack was at hand.

* * *

Slowly, the small crowd in front of her fell silent, their excited twittering dying down as she walked up, taking her position at the front of the room.

Long flames burnt on tapers set into the walls, casting their flickering shadows.

At the front of them all, Bellatrix stood with a wide smile. When she met Ginny's eyes, she gave an encouraging nod.

It was funny, how Bellatrix was so willing to give Ginny the honour of being the one to go over the plan with their assembled companions. In truth, it had been mostly Bellatrix, Dolohov, and Rookwood who had worked it out, even if she had helped.

Well, she wasn't complaining. For once, she was finally receiving the respect and honour she so deserved.

"You all know the plan," she said, shivering slightly under the weight of all the expectant eyes. "We're going into Hogwarts through the Chamber of Secrets. From there, we'll come out in the second-floor girl's bathroom. Theo and Draco have been preparing for us, and by the time we actually arrive they should have a fair amount of students under the Imperius. Still, the more the better, so we're going to be splitting up then. You've all already been told which groups you're a part of, but some of us will be heading right up towards Dumbledore's office, placing whichever students we come across under the Imperius as we go. The rest of you will be going towards the staff members' offices."

She paused for a moment, and when no-one had any questions to ask carried on.

"The plan is that when Dumbledore finds out we've infiltrated, we attack him right as he exits his office. We've got to have the entrance to his office totally surrounded, and to make sure that the students are at the front lines. Theo and Draco should already have the students waiting in that hallway, but we want to get up there before anyone raises the alarm. So for the first fifteen minutes or so, we need to be as quiet as possible."

"The Aurors at Hogwarts," Dolohov asked slowly, "they're going to be on patrol, aren't they?"

Nodding solemnly, Ginny continued.

"Yeah. We've got a pretty high chance of running across them. Remember, we are counting on them raising the alarm at some point, we just want to be ready when they do it. They'll probably bring in reinforcements, plus we can expect the Order of the Phoenix to pitch up. And some of the students will probably fight back too."

Greyback laughed, an ominous chuckle that made everyone turn to him.

"I'm looking forward to that," he said, baring his disgusting yellow teeth.

"You heard the Dark Lord," Ginny snapped, "we aren't to kill those kids unnecessarily. Unless you want to give their mummies and daddies a reason to fight against us?"

_'Come on, wolf. Give me one fucking reason to show them all where you stand in relation to me.'_

Greyback glowered but remained silent.

"Once we're in position," she continued, "We need to have the other entrances to that corridor blocked off. The more kids we can get under the Imperius, the better. We make it so that anyone who wants to get into us will be too outnumbered and scared to do anything major."

"What about Potter?"

"If possible, we are to capture Potter and bring him back here, alive. Anyone who kills him, they'll have to answer to the Dark Lord. And I promise, they won't enjoy that."

_'If killing him is even possible.'_

Well, regardless of what had happened that day in Knockturn, the Dark Lord seemed to think it was possible for Potter to die.

"Of course, this is not our main goal. Even if we don't manage that tonight, once Dumbledore is dead, it'll be a lot easier to get Potter. Just...if we can, we're going to bring Potter here tonight."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"If I know Potter, he'll come right to us the moment he knows that there's a fight going on. If we can, we're to get him. Just remember, by the time we kill Dumbledore, chances are they'll have lots of reinforcements coming in. No matter how many kids we're controlling, if we get boxed in at Hogwarts, we're done for. The second that Dumbledore's dead, we're getting out of there. Understood?"

A susurrus of soft agreement met her as they all nodded and gave their assent.

_'I need to rile them up, get them really ready to go.'_

"Tonight," she said pitching her voice so that it echoed throughout the large study, "We're going to kill our greatest enemy, and after that...well, without Dumbledore, it won't be long until the Ministry falls to us. Tonight, we're making history. Let's do it."

Stupid though her words sounded in her head, they seemed to work. The crowd of Death Eaters before her broke into a loud, ragged cheer.

And at the head of them all Bellatrix stood, looking prouder than Ginny had ever seen her.

* * *

The sound of a softly dripping tap was all Ginny heard as she emerged from the tunnel, walking out into the bathroom where the Chamber's entrance was hidden.

The sight of it was like a bucket of ice water to her.

Nothing had changed.

She reached out, gently running her fingers along one of the sinks and glanced at herself in the mirror, helpless to prevent the memories from arising.

The last time she'd seen Tom, Tom as he'd been in the diary, it had been in here.

She'd seen the Dark Lord plenty since then, of course, had dozens of conversations with him, learned spells from him and made plans with him.

But it wasn't the same as it had been with Tom.

It was incredible, and the next best thing possible, but it wasn't the same.

 _'I wonder what he would say if he could see me now,'_ she wondered, staring at the mirror and remembering how it had fogged up and revealed his face, back when Tom had been her constant companion.

 _'He'd be proud, I think,'_  she realized.  _'I've come so far. Here I am, leading a group of his followers to attack Dumbledore.'_

As she thought of them, the rest of the Death Eaters began to make their way out of the tunnel. Bellatrix came out first, of course, with Dolohov, Mulciber, and Rookwood hot on her heels.

Then came Rowle, Gibbon, and Runcorn, followed by Alecto Carrow, Travers, Pyrites, Avery, Thaddeus Nott, Selwyn, Greyback and five members of his pack whose names Ginny honestly hadn't cared enough to learn, with Draco bringing up the rear.

All in all, they had a good-sized group, even for something as intense as taking on Dumbledore would surely prove to be.

Adrenaline beginning to thrum through her, she pulled the parchment that was linked to Theo's out of her pocket and scrawled a quick message to him.

 _"We're in,"_ she wrote,  _"Starting to head up to you now. Be ready."_

Almost the instant she'd finished writing, Theo's response appeared.

_"All in position. I've got twenty-one, and Draco got fourteen. I think we're going to be ok."_

_"Good. Keep them there."_

"Ok," she whispered, "Let's get going. Remember, do what you need to and get up to Dumbledore's office."

Splitting up into their separate groups, they left the bathroom.

It was nearly three minutes after they left the bathroom that they came across anyone.

The halls were dimly lit, most of the tapers having been extinguished as curfew approached. The remaining flames cast their strange shadows on the floor, the paintings and suits of armour looking menacing in the near-gloom.

Ginny was walking with Bellatrix, Dolohov, Pyrites, and two of the werewolves, the others having gone their assigned routes.

Rounding a corner on the third floor, they came across a gaggle of Hufflepuffs; there were four of them, and they looked to be no older than thirteen.

"Imperio!" Ginny hissed, her wand flicking instinctively up at the sight, the other Death Eaters mirroring her action.

Immediately, she felt the awareness blossoming in the back of her mind; the little ball of thoughts that was the mind of the student she had cursed.

"Let's move on," she said, giving a flick of her wand and commanding the Hufflepuff to follow.

It was almost eerie, walking through the mostly deserted corridors and making their way up through the castle. They were doing their best to keep silent and limit conversation, and the only sounds to be heard were their soft footfalls and muted conversation from elsewhere in the castle.

Twice, they heard distant shouts, both of which were cut off before any words could be made out.

They continued on, quickening up the pace and placing the Imperius on every student they came across.

By the time they reached the sixth floor, they'd happened upon another seven, the last of whom, ironically enough, had been Colin Creevey.

Honestly, she was beyond glad that she'd practised, along with Theo, casting the Imperius on more than one person at a time. It still felt confusing, of course, and she still couldn't give individual commands, but she  _was_  capable of controlling the three she'd cursed at the same time. They wouldn't be much use in a fight, given that she could only give them general orders and that they were still trying to break free of her control, but their presence was the main thing.

It happened just when they were arriving at the staircase that led up to the seventh floor. A high-pitched shriek suddenly sounded from the floor below them, only cutting out when a strong, bestial voice roared out an incantation.

And a moment later, a bare patch of the wall slid open a little way down the corridor, revealing a hidden passageway from where a harried-looking McGonagall appeared.

For the barest fraction of an instant, everyone froze, McGonagall's eyes widening as she took their presence in.

Then the corridor exploded into action, everyone around Ginny waving and slashing their wands and shouting as one.

As quick as they were to cast a barrage of spells, McGonagall was quicker.

Before any of the curses had reached her, she'd transformed into her Animagus form, seamlessly and instantly shifting into a small tabby cat which bounded into a tiny alcove in the bottom of the wall.

"THERE!" Cried Ginny, as the cat leapt out, "KILL IT, KILL HER!"

Their spells all missed, the cat managing to get back into the secret passageway.

"Pyrites," Ginny snapped, spinning around, "You, and you two," she gestured at the werewolves, "go after her. Bella, Dolohov, send your students with them."

"But-"

"DO AS I SAY!" She shrieked, sparks flying from the tip of her wand. "NOW! GO!"

They ran.

"Come on," Bellatrix hissed, grabbing Ginny's arm, "We need to get up to Dumbledore!"

Dolohov had already started running. Grimacing, Ginny snapped her wand forward, forcing the students she was controlling to follow her and Bellatrix as they broke into a sprint.

 _'As long as we get Dumbledore and get out,'_ she reminded herself,  _'That's all that matters.'_

By the time she reached the seventh floor, she was clutching at a painful stitch in her side.

Their frantic dash didn't end at the top of the staircase, however. They kept running, the muscles in her legs crying out in agony, her lungs beginning to burn.

Finally, they turned into the corridor which contained the gargoyled entrance to Dumbledore's office and skidded to a stop, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that Dumbledore still hadn't come down.

Almost everyone was there already. Selwyn, Avery, and Runcorn weren't, and neither were Pyrites and the werewolves who'd gone with him, but the rest of them all were.

And they had what looked like a small army of students under the Imperius there too.

There had to have been at least fifty of them, all wearing the same, empty expression. Theo stood just a few feet from the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, a self-satisfied smirk brightening up his face as his father leaned over and said something.

For a moment, Ginny just gaped.

_'At least something's gone according to plan. Fucking hell, this is better than I ever expected.'_

"You made it," Dolohov gasped, leaning against a wall and looking like he was struggling to catch his own breath. "Good. We won't have much time."

She shook her head, growling softly as she waved to Mulciber.

"Tell Rookwood and Rowle to take this side of the corridor," she said, "and all the kids they've got with them. Tell the Notts to take Greyback and the rest of his pack, let them get the other two entrances to here."

Mulciber nodded, striding off to pass on the message.

"It's going to be wonderful," Bellatrix whispered, "We're almost done. This will work very well."

Nodding, Ginny took a deep breath and began to walk forward, making her way toward Dumbledore's office.

A soft sound of stone scraping on stone was suddenly heard, seeming to cut through all the other noise in the corridor.

Ginny froze, her heart pounding like crazy.

_'This is it, this is it, Merlin, this is it!'_

Slowly, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office was turning and starting to open.

* * *

"The underground is positively teeming with rumours," Dumbledore said, "Hopefully, Alastor's investigation will bear fruit and we will have more information, but regardless, Mundungus' connections with the, ahem,  _seedier_ part of the wizarding world have already proven their value."

"Rumours about Voldemort's plans?" Harry asked, making a face. Somehow, he just couldn't imagine Voldemort sitting in a pub and chatting about his plots.

Dumbledore seemed to understand Harry's surprise. With a wry smile, he continued.

"The Death Eaters are human, Harry. Many of them like to brag, even if just to impress those whom they consider to be beneath them. Certainly, we cannot rely purely on rumour, even if all the rumours were to match up. Nevertheless, it is clear that Voldemort has large plans afoot."

"What type of plans?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his brow furrowing as he glanced out of the window for a moment.

"Oh, they were very unclear on the details. A large Muggle killing, the unleashing of a giant on Muggle London, an assault on the Ministry of Magic. What is certain, however, is that Voldemort is planning an important action. In fact, his quiet over recent weeks speaks to this as well."

"What do you think it could be, professor?" Asked Hermione.

"Were I to hazard a guess, I would assume it will be an attempt to capture the prophecy from within the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort has still not learned its contents, and I am entirely certain that the prophecy is weighing heavily on his mind, particularly after what occurred in Knockturn Alley."

 _'When I died,'_  Harry thought,  _'He still hasn't figured out that I was one of his horcruxes.'_

"Of course, I have stationed members of the Order of the Phoenix there once more. However, we cannot know for certain what Voldemort's plans truly are. I believe the prophecy to be his most likely goal, but-"

A startlingly bright spot of silver light shot into the room, interrupting Dumbledore and making Harry, Ron, and Hermione all jump.

It hovered above Dumbledore's desk for a moment before shaking and dropping, coalescing into the misty form of a cat.

 _'It's Patronus,'_ Harry realized,  _'But what-'_

"Death Eaters in the castle," the Patronus said, speaking in an extremely stressed version of McGonagall's voice. "A group of them on the sixth floor, with the Weasley girl. Some are chasing me."

Dumbledore rose in an instant, his wand flashing and expelling a large, silver mist which resolved into a Patronus in the shape of a phoenix.

Harry just sat there, utterly stunned, his brain seeming too sluggish to comprehend what he had just heard.

As if they had planned and synchronized it, Ron and Hermione jumped to their feet, one of them growling softly.

"Wait," Harry began, "Ron, Hermione, don't-"

But they were running before he could finish the sentence, running towards the exit, both of them with wands drawn and grim, harsh expressions.

Before Harry could even move, Dumbledore was beside him, staring intently into his face.

"They are likely after you," the old wizard quickly said. "Harry, you need to-"

Again, Dumbledore was interrupted, this time by an enormous explosion.

Even though the blast dulled out the sound, Harry could make out two voices raised in cries of shock and agony.

Cursing, he pulled his arm from Dumbledore's grip and ran toward the exit.

He leapt straight through the door, taking the stairs three at a time, Dumbledore hot on his heels.

The gargoyle lay broken on its side, and in the corridor just past it, he could see Ron and Hermione. They were both on the floor, still and unmoving, a large smoking crater in the stone floor surrounding them.

He jumped into the corridor, and something seized him, holding him in mid-air before he could land.

A reddish-blue haze of light appeared around him, conforming perfectly to the shape of his body.

For an instant that stretched into eternity, he hung there, his jaw hanging open and confused terror coursing through his every cell.

He didn't even notice the same light that was surrounding him appearing around Ron and Hermione, he was simply too shocked by what was facing him.

There were dozens of people there, surrounding the Headmaster's tower with wands drawn.

The vast majority of them were students, Colin Creevey and Zacharias Smith and Romilda Vane and Daphne Greengrass and tens, dozens of others, dozens of Harry's classmates and friends and acquaintances.

Behind them, standing in a semicircle, was a dozen Death Eaters, Ginny's furious scowl captivating his attention.

He noticed all this in the second that he hovered there, a second where no-one did anything.

Then, as one, everyone in the corridor raised their wands to face him.

And then Dumbledore appeared.

He swept out of the tower, his wand flashing faster than Harry could make out.

The Death Eaters changed targets, shouting out incantations as they attacked Dumbledore.

An enormous, invisible hand seized Harry,  _pushing_  him roughly through the air to fly back through the broken gargoyle. At the same time, Ron and Hermione flew backwards as well, that irresistible force moving them straight up the spiralling staircase and depositing them back in Dumbledore's office.

Only then did it release them, dropping them roughly to the carpeted floor.

_'No, no, this can't be happening, this can't be!'_

The whole castle gave an enormous lurch, the ground shaking so much that a portrait fell off the wall, to much shouting from the others.

He could hear the fight down below, could hear the screams and cries and sounds of spells.

_'This can't be happening, this can't be happening!'_

_'Get a fucking hold of yourself! THIS IS HAPPENING!'_

Without giving himself a chance to think, he raised his hand, slapping himself sharply across the face.

The world swam back into focus, the sounds from below becoming instantly clearer.

"RON!" He cried, lurching over to where his friends lay, "HERMIONE!"

_'Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead!'_

He dropped back onto the floor, reaching out fearfully and placing two fingers to Ron's neck.

* * *

Ginny shrieked mindlessly, rage overthrowing all reason as Potter, Ron, and the mudblood were cast back into the office.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The broken gargoyle shot out from its resting place, exploding into hundreds of small pieces when the Killing Curse hit it. The pieces remained in the air, spinning and forming a whirlwind around Dumbledore.

"ATTACK!" She screeched, "KILL HIM, KILL HIM!"

 _'ATTACK HIM!'_ She shouted in her mind, forcing the students she controlled to obey.

Something appeared in the doorway where the gargoyle had stood, a sort of fine, grey mist. It solidified almost instantly, a thick wall appearing where the entrance had been.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"

Spell after spell was launched at Dumbledore, but the maelstrom of stone before him deflected them, at least for the moment.

 _'It won't be much longer,'_ a calm part of her mind noted,  _'Look, half of the pieces are already gone.'_

The broken pieces  _exploded_  outward, a deadly storm flying in a circle away from Dumbledore.

Somehow, none of the pieces hit any of the Imperiused students.

Crying out, she dropped to her knees, hastily casting a shield charm.

Beside her, Mulciber fell with a strange coughing noise, blood pouring from a dozen holes in his chest.

As soon as the stones had stopped flying, Ginny rose, her wand already beginning the motions of a Killing Curse.

But Dumbledore was faster.

Even with the blood pouring from a deep gash in his side, he stood looking almost relaxed, his true feelings only exposed by the icy lines of his face.

And almost too quickly for Ginny to see, he jerked his wand in a strange see-sawing gesture.

The whole castle  _lurched_ , the floor shaking so badly she was knocked from her freshly-regained balance.

"You use my students against me?" Dumbledore asked, his voice trembling with terrible rage, "You raise arms against a  _school?_ "

The floor continued to shake, so badly that Ginny could barely raise her wand and take aim.

Clearly, she wasn't the only one having trouble; spells were flying all around, bright multi-coloured jets of light splashing against the walls and the roof.

Something hit Dumbledore, throwing him against the wall.

And the floor stopped shaking.

His eyes widened, wand flashing.

Ginny jumped to her feet, screaming in her mind to the students of whom she'd taken control.

 _'KILL HIM!'_ She mentally ordered,  _'TEAR HIM APART!'_

Electric green light tore from her wand as she shrieked in fury, a blistering salvo of killing curses and explosive hexes careening headlong towards Dumbledore

A large piece of the wall tore itself free with a thunderous crash, flying in front of Dumbledore and instantly dissolving in a flurry of bright spellfire.

A loud, high-pitched screeching noise sounded. Dumbledore's phoenix appeared in mid-air just above him and dived forward, its talons outstretched as it raked at Gibbon's face.

He fell to the floor, clutching at his bleeding eyes and wailing.

Dozens of spots of blueish-white light appeared in the air around Dumbledore, spinning and swooping around him like comets in orbit. As soon as they appeared, they shot outwards, striking the Death Eaters and Imperiused students with equal measure. Everyone who was hit by one of them fell, clearly stunned.

A curse from behind whizzed past her, blisters appearing on her cheek from the heat of its passage.

An enormous, opaque, cocoon-like  _thing_  appeared around Dumbledore, covering his entire body and blocking it off from view.

Ginny's next Killing Curse splayed up against the thing, lines of glistening emerald light spreading out from the point of impact.

_'What the fuck?!'_

Whatever it was, it should have been destroyed, should have been torn to shreds by her curse.

Her arm dropped to her side as another Killing Curse struck it, thready fear making her heart skip a beat.

Suddenly, her earlier confidence of being able to simply overwhelm Dumbledore seemed absurd. There he was, massively outnumbered, many of his opponents people who he was clearly trying not to hurt, and he was pulling off magical feats that Ginny hadn't even known were possible.

She'd thought, on that day in Knockturn Alley, that she'd learned what Dumbledore's capabilities were.

She'd been terribly mistaken.

For the first time, she could understand why people claimed the Dark Lord feared this man.

Through the shield, she could dimly make out Dumbledore's form as he spun with his arm waving.

_'It's becoming more transparent! We can take it down, we just need to hit it enough!'_

The realization shocked her out of her stupor, a sense of urgency filling her as she raised her wand once more.

More of those revolving spheres of flickering light appeared around Dumbledore's bizarre shield, attacking the Death Eaters and students even as the floor began to shake again.

Dumbledore's shield was clearly weakening; it now looked like it was made of some shapeless liquid.

_'It's almost broken!'_

One of the enormous stained glass windows shattered inwards, hundreds of glistening shards flying forward like a diamond storm.

The glass shot towards the Death Eaters, half of the pieces spinning out and changing into a stone-like substance before flying at the Imperiused students.

The glass tore right through Ginny's shield charm, a pained yelp tearing itself out of her as she shielded her face with her hand and was immediately peppered with the glittering shards.

With a gurgling cry, Travers fell, blood spurting through the fingers splayed up against his ruined throat.

One of the werewolves launched himself over Ginny's shoulder, hands outstretched as he went for Dumbledore.

His fingertips touched the edge of Dumbledore's shield and he  _melted,_  his body dissolving as surely as if he'd been dipped in acid.

Ginny's wand snapped forward, three Imperiused students following her unspoken command and running straight at Dumbledore's shield.

Her gambit paid off; giving an enraged bellow, Dumbledore flicked his wand, the shield vanishing as a powerful wind swept through the corridor, throwing the students back and knocking Dolohov against the wall.

It was all Ginny could manage to keep standing; her hair streamed away from her face, her robes flying back as that incredibly strong wind swept over her.

Amycus screeched, knocking Ginny aside as she ran forward and made a swiping gesture.

One of the tapers set into the wall jerked, flying out and lurching towards Dumbledore.

It stopped in mid-air, Dumbledore waving his wand and transforming it into an enormous bearlike, foggy creature. With a roar, it dropped to all fours and charged directly into the Death Eater ranks, a huge claw reaching out and swiping across Amycus' stomach.

It was utter bedlam, more chaotic than anything Ginny had experienced before.

She was screaming, casting whatever she could with no more thought than was utterly necessary, feeling it as one by one, the students under her control fell unconscious until there was only one left.

Dumbledore moved forward, nimbly dodging a Killing Curse Bellatrix had shot at him. He twisted to face her, his wand moving through a complicated motion.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ginny roared, the curse flying straight at Dumbledore's back.

His phoenix swooped down, intercepting the curse and dropping to the floor as a tiny, hairless chick.

Bellatrix flew upward as if thrown, Dumbledore's spell smashing her against the ceiling.

And a spell shot directly over her shoulder, so close that it breezed through her hair, hit Dumbledore in the right leg.

He wobbled, barely managing to keep his balance.

Another spell grazed the side of his face, a torrent of blood spurting out.

"EXPULSO!" Ginny screamed, aiming at the floor just to Dumbledore's left, already beginning her next Explosive Curse when the first left her wand.

He jumped away from the first explosion, almost falling when he landed on his wounded leg.

And the second hit, smashing him up against the wall where he fell in a crumpled heal, his wand dropping from a broken hand.

Everything fell silent.

Dumbledore was groaning, trying to pull himself up as Ginny approached.

Taking deep, gasping breaths, she looked around, trying to force her nerves to settle.

Merlin, but she'd underestimated Dumbledore.

Dozens of bodies littered the floor, most of them merely injured, but some, like Mulciber and Travers, were clearly dead. Rookwood was crouched on the floor, grimacing as he tapped his wand against his leg and muttered to himself. Not too far from him, Amycus lay in a puddle of blood, whimpering pitifully as she tried to shove her unspooling intestines back into the ruins of her belly.

A short distance away, Draco lay unconscious, blood seeping into his pale hair.

Huge patches of the wall had been torn away, revealing the large drop to the Hogwarts grounds. Patches of stone had melted all along the corridor, and small fires still blazed among the dead and injured.

Pools of dark blood were collecting in indentations in the floor, a heavy stench of gore and viscera filling the air.

"Do it," Bellatrix said, walking up to Ginny. She had a nasty gash on her forehead and was gingerly holding a hand against her side, but otherwise seemed perfectly fine.

"Do it," she repeated. "We need to get out of here now. They've got people coming, we need to go. Kill him, love."

Ginny turned around, ignoring the agonies that were now demanding her attention from around her body.

Trails of dried blood snaked down her arm from where several shards of glass had embedded themselves into her, her ears were ringing, and she was quite certain that she'd broken a few ribs.

In fact, her entire body felt bruised and battered, like she'd fallen from an incredible height.

But she'd managed. After all the time, all the planning, she'd managed.

Dumbledore had pushed himself into a half-sitting position and was blinking up at her, his shattered half-moon spectacles still resting on the bridge of his crooked nose.

His beard was matted with blood, as was most of his face.

"I failed you greatly," he said with a cough. "This should never have been your lot."

Smiling, Ginny raised her wand.

"I chose my own lot. Avada Kedavra!"

The Killing Curse took him right in the chest, bathing his body in its eldritch green glow before it vanished, taking the light in his eyes with it.

Exultant beyond words, Ginny turned.

They were all watching her, awed expressions on most of their faces.

_'Now they know. Now they all know why I am his favoured.'_

From somewhere in the distance, she could hear screams and shouts, all drawing nearer.

 _'Aurors,'_ she thought,  _'And probably Order of the Phoenix too. We need to go.'_

She gave a last, regretful look at the wall Dumbledore had erected to protect Potter. It would take them far too long to break through there, especially with incoming enemy forces.

_'We killed Dumbledore, and that was always the main goal. That's enough for now.'_

"Let's get the fuck out here," she said. "Take as many of our injured as you can. But let's go before their reinforcements get here. Now!"

With that, they filed out, levitating those who were too injured to move and breaking into a run, leaving the corpse of Albus Dumbledore among the wreckage like a discarded, broken toy.


	36. Interlude IX

Interlude IX

With a bone-deep sigh, Harry dropped his face into his hands and rubbed at his eyes, certain that if he had to stare at the cheerful mural on the wall for a moment longer he'd lose his mind entirely.

People bustled around him, the visitors' tearoom filled almost to bursting.

He pushed his fingers up against his temples, forcing himself to at least try and work out the chain of events that had taken place.

He could still hear the shouts of battle from outside Dumbledore's office, could still see and smell the mess that had greeted him when the Aurors and Order had arrived and he'd left.

He could still feel the terror that had so consumed him as he'd bent over Ron and Hermione's forms, cursing his lack of healing knowledge and trying to understand the advice the portraits had been shouting at him.

At some point, he had used the coin in his pocket to send out a message to the DA, warning them to barricade themselves in their common rooms. He thought that had taken place after he'd managed to follow Dilys Derwent's advice for long enough to put both Ron and Hermione into an enchanted sleep.

Was that before Fawkes had vanished, before the portraits had started slipping away to their other frames?

He couldn't be quite sure. Much like the chaos that had overtaken Hogwarts, his thoughts were too confused for him to even begin making heads or tails from them.

It was all just far too much to take in; the death and destruction that had swept in from nowhere, the sudden incapacitation of his closest friends and the madness that followed.

And Dumbledore's corpse, resting in a half-sitting position, surrounded by bodies in the ruined corridor.

And now he was waiting, waiting until someone would tell him whether it was only Dumbledore he had lost, waiting to hear if Dilys' advice had been enough to save Ron and Hermione's lives or if…

He shook his head, not willing to face the entirety of that terrifying thought, not willing to contemplate it.

Dumbledore was bad enough. Hell, Dumbledore's death was something he'd never thought would happen.

Dumbledore was bad enough, but if anyone else he cared about were to have gone as well...

The clock on the wall claimed that only two hours previously Harry had been sitting in Dumbledore's office with Ron and Hermione, discussing the future. It felt more like several days had passed.

"Hey."

"Hey," Harry said, lifting his head.

Sirius was standing there with a steaming cup of tea in each hand.

"Did you hear anything from the rest of the Order?" Harry asked, gratefully accepting a cup.

"Yeah," Sirius grimaced, taking the empty chair beside Harry. "It's pretty miraculous, to be honest. Kingsley's in the hospital, Tonks and Hagrid too, but they'll all be alright. McGonagall's fine, she's taking care of-of things at Hogwarts."

Sirius' voice trembled for an instant. He took a sip and shook his head before continuing in a bracing tone.

"She said she managed to lead those Death Eaters on a chase before taking them down. She was lucky. It sounds like not all of the other teachers were."

"Who else?" Harry asked, his voice coming out in a strange whisper.

"She didn't say."

Sirius leaned slightly closer to Harry, his free hand stretching out to rest on Harry's shoulder.

"Have you heard anything about Ron and Hermione?"

Unshed tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes, that terrible fear rearing itself like a cresting wave, just waiting to sweep him away.

"Nothing. The Healers...they looked very worried. I don't know-I tried to do what I could, but I've never spent time on healing spells-"

His voice broke and he looked away, wiping at his eyes.

Sirius said nothing, just continued to sit there with Harry, clasping his shoulder and providing comfort with his very presence.

After a few minutes, Harry met Sirius's eyes again.

Looking into them, Harry could see how deeply the attack and Dumbledore's death had affected his godfather. His face looked calm, even with the small twitch on his chin, but his eyes betrayed the truth.

They were filled with pain, pain and a horrifically uncharacteristic fear.

"Dumbledore's gone, Harry," Sirius said. "But the fight's not over. He left us more than enough to go on. Hell, he did most of the work. We've just got to finish it. We've got to finish the bastard."

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts," Harry said. "I can't, Sirius. I can't do it. Dumbledore-he thought they were coming for me. He told me-he told me that the Death Eaters were probably there for me. If I'm there, the school's a target. And Voldemort-one way or another, this isn't over until he's dead, or I am."

Sirius's fingers tightened painfully, his face contorting for a moment into an agonized mask.

"You're not going to die," he promised.

"Voldemort won't stop until I do. Unless we can kill him first."

"Then that's what we'll have to do. That's what we'll do. You're not dying on me. We're going to finish this fucking thing."

Slowly, Harry nodded, his terror being replaced by a cold determination.

* * *

Letting out a small pained cry, Draco continued to apply the ointment to his thigh, the cold stickiness of it shockingly agonizing against his burned skin.

It had already been four days since the attack on Hogwarts, and his burns still looked as bad as when he'd first received them. The pain wasn't quite as bad, except when he touched them, but the appearance was nothing short of horrific.

From his knee up to his shoulder, his entire right side was coated with them, terrifying streaks of red and black, the skin looking like it would slough off at a touch, the pus-filled blisters wobbling with his every motion.

Based on what he knew about Fiendfyre, they would soon cease to hurt him, but they would never look much better than they currently did.

Frankly, it had been insane for his aunt to cast the spell, especially since she hadn't even made a token attempt at controlling it. True, it  _had_  allowed them to escape, given that the Aurors were too busy trying to fight the cursed flames to try and capture them.

It had saved them, but it had come damn near killing them too.

He shivered, remembering how those monstrous creatures had formed themselves out of the fire and launched, some of them running right towards him.

They'd been on the Hogwarts grounds by then, having somehow managed to get ahead of the Aurors. The night had been lit up with spells flying all around them, his thoughts a confused mess of terror and hope and a desperate, urgent need to keep running as fast as he could.

And then Bellatrix had set the darkness ablaze.

He'd managed to get out of the way, when that fiery chimaera had launched itself at him, even if the heat from it had burned his side.

He'd gotten away, but Gibbon and Greyback hadn't been so lucky.

He could still hear their tortured screams if he closed his eyes, could still feel the excruciating agony that flared up when the chimaera had brushed past him.

He honestly didn't know how he'd continued to run after that. It had been the worst pain he'd ever experienced, except when Ginny had put him under the Cruciatus.

And yet, with the choice of staying and getting burned to a crisp or running, he'd managed to run.

Not everyone had. Both Rookwood and Rowle had been on the other side of the Fiendfyre, and Avery, Selwyn, Pyrites, and Runcorn hadn't made their way out of Hogwarts.

Mulciber, Travers, Amycus Carrow, and almost all of the werewolves hadn't either, but they were dead.

The others, though, were already on their way to Azkaban, if they weren't there already.

And at the Death Eater headquarters, everyone continued on like normal. Maybe not quite like normal, given that they probably weren't usually spending so much time healing and recuperating, but there was definitely a feeling of celebration in the air.

With a wince and a muttered curse, Draco continued to apply the ointment.

He hadn't thought too much about what life would be like after Dumbledore was killed. He'd been far too concerned with wondering whether or not  _he_  would survive.

If he had, though, he'd have imagined himself at least being given some level of respect. After all, even if he hadn't been the one to have killed Dumbledore, he still had been the one to actually gain them entry to Hogwarts.

And yet, none of them seemed to care. Oh, there'd been a few half-hearted compliments, a few awkward pats on the back, but none of the actual honour he really deserved.

It was certainly irksome, even annoying. For months, he'd been sneaking down to the Chamber of Secrets whenever he could get away with it, painstakingly working on the enchantments for hours on end, all the while with the spectre of his possibly getting caught hanging over his head.

And the reward for all of his work was to be ignored.

On the other hand, with Ginny and his aunt ignoring him, Draco was starting to relax a little. When they'd first arrived back at the Death Eaters headquarters, he'd been on edge, spending every moment waiting for Ginny to attack him.

She hadn't. If anything, it seemed like she'd forgotten about him.

It was slightly irksome, to be perfectly honest, seeing Ginny chatting casually to Theo and knowing that if he so much as tried to talk to her he'd soon regret it, but Draco was content enough to be ignored.

It was certainly better than the alternatives.

_'Unless she's in such a good mood that she'll forget about treating me like shit.'_

Snorting, Draco pulled the bandages around his side, his laughter choking off as the pain struck at the touch.

"Fucking hell," he muttered.

"Aaaaw. Is little Draco hurting?"

Draco spun around, his side shrieking in protest at the sudden movement, his heart hammering and nerves twisting at the sound of  _her_ voice.

Ginny was standing right beside the door, her eyes glittering with cold malice, a bright smirk tugging at her lips.

As always, the sight of her stirred up that stupid, absurd desire in him, that wanton need that would get him killed if he dared act on it.

"Uh-hi," he spluttered, hating the blush he felt spreading across his face.

Her smile grew until she looked quite deranged and then, without warning, she slashed her wand forward.

Draco was entirely unprepared. Her Bludgeoning Hex smashed him just above the sternum, flinging him through the air.

He smashed into the wall and fell to the floor, one confused corner of his mind grateful that his room had a thick carpet.

The rest of his thoughts were blotted out by terror, and by the sheer agony that had flooded him when his burned side had hit the wall.

At least one of the blisters had popped; he could feel the disgustingly warm pus leaking out of it and staining through his bandages.

Before he had managed to do anything other than flop onto his back, Ginny was there, straddling him with her knees pinning his thighs in place.

He was screaming wordlessly, the burning agony overshadowing all else, the terrible torment he was experiencing simply too much to bear without giving voice.

Ginny waved her wand, casting what was obviously a Silencing Charm. He continued to scream, but nothing emerged from his mouth.

"You didn't kill Dumbledore," she said, speaking in a childish sing-song tone, "and now I  _own_ you!"

He ignored her, continuing his soundless wail, shaking as much as he could and trying to force her off of him.

His head rocked to the side as she slapped him.

And then, blissfully, she rose, giving him a kick in his unburned left thigh as she did.

He just lay there, relishing the surcease of torment now that she was no longer pushing against his burned flesh.

"You've got another few days rest," she said, "until those burns aren't hurting you. You're just too easy like this. Don't fucking try to run or anything, I'll have to hunt you down if you do. Heal up quick, Draco, because I'm going to have a lot of fun with you."

With a last kick to his thigh, Ginny walked out of the room.

 _'It was definitely better when she was ignoring me,'_  Draco thought, the despair washing over him hurting worse than the pain of her ministrations.  _'Fuck me, it was far better.'_

* * *

Colin stared at his wand through a shimmering veil of despair, feeling worse than he could ever remember.

It had been eating at him since that night a week previous, the guilt and despair and impotent rage.

Today, however, had been Dumbledore's funeral, and that had just made everything worse.

All those speeches, all the tears, all that heavy emotion in the air.

Dumbledore was dead, and it was, in part, thanks to Colin.

He couldn't entirely be blamed, he knew. He'd been under the Imperius and totally surrounded by Death Eaters and other students who were likewise controlled.

But he could have fought back. He could have at least tried to throw  _her_  curse off, he could have tried to retake control of his body.

He could have tried, and he hadn't.

He hadn't even tried, because it was Ginny who had cursed him.

As if the thought of her name had summoned it, the fit came upon him.

He began to shake, his fingers splaying out as the tremors seized his hands.

As he fell back into his bed, a cloud of inky darkness fell over his vision, the sound of her chuckles reverberating through his mind.

He could see monsters lurking in that blackness, all fangs and claws and hulking, brutish forms. Behind them, as if from a great distance, he could see a shining figure with blood-red hair, her face a picture of joy.

A terrible fear gripped him, his heart pounding so hard he was sure it would burst.

And then it was over, vanishing as suddenly as it had begun.

Still shaking, Colin sat back up and wiped the sweat from his brow.

He'd been having fits like that for over a year now, but they were definitely coming more often now. At first, he'd only had them once a week or so.

Now, he was lucky if a few hours went past without one of them.

He knew exactly what had caused them, exactly what had brought them on.

It was Ginny. It had been her who had Obliviated him over and over after testing who knows what on him.

It had been her who had used him as a human guinea pig.

It had been her who had featured prominently in his nightmares for the last year, nightmares which had all too often left him waking up with a confused, terrified erection.

Just a week ago, it had been her who had once again messed around in his mind.

And he hadn't even tried to fight.

There was something about her, something that made it so even though he hated and feared her with every fibre of his being, he  _couldn't_  fight back.

The fits weren't the only scars she'd left him with. It had been getting worse lately, but ever since she'd messed with his head, he'd been far more forgetful and anxious, on edge all the time with his mind feeling like a sieve.

If only Snape hadn't...vanished.

Nasty as the former potions professor had been, he'd at least realized that something was wrong. Colin was sure that if Snape hadn't disappeared, he'd probably have been more useful than Madam Pomfrey had been.

All she'd done was give him some mental exercises and advise him to go to St Mungo's.

Well, he hadn't gone. Maybe he should have, but he hadn't.

And slowly but surely, he'd begun inching his way toward madness.

Hed changed over the last year, he knew it. His near-constant nightmares made it so that he was tired all the time, which only exacerbated his bad mood and forgetfulness.

In his first few years at Hogwarts, he'd never needed to consult his timetable as often as he now did, he'd never simply forgotten about homework (even if he'd claimed he had).

He'd never been as grumpy all the time, never been twitchy and irritable.

He'd been  _happy._

And with just a few badly cast spells, Ginny had stolen that happiness from him.

The few tears in his eyes turned into a torrent, flooding down his cheeks and dripping off the tip of his chin.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that this should happen to him. It wasn't fair that Ginny's meddling with his mind could have stopped him from fighting her.

It wasn't fair that he still dreamed about her, and that those dreams were not always bad.

He figured it was because he'd had a crush on her when she'd Obliviated him and done whatever damage she had, but the cause didn't matter.

All that mattered was that a part of him still loved her as fervently as when he thought she'd been his best friend.

Even though he knew it had all been fake, even though he knew that she hated people like him, that she'd killed Luna and her own brothers, even so, that part of him remained.

It was probably partially thanks to that stupid part of him that he hadn't tried to fight her off, that he'd stood there gaping like an idiot when she cursed him.

If only he wasn't so weak.

His tears were dripping onto his wand.

Grimacing, he lifted it, holding it so that the point was aimed at his chest.

 _'Avada Kedavra,'_ he thought.  _'Just two words, and it'll all be over. I won't have to worry about her anymore, I won't have to think about anything.'_

But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it to his parents and Dennis, couldn't do it to his friends, few though they were.

He couldn't do it.

With a soft, choked sob, he dropped the wand and let his face fall into his hands.

 _'If I ever see her again,'_ he thought,  _'I hope she kills me. Because I won't be able to stop her if she tries to make me do something again.'_

* * *

"So this is it, then? The new headquarters?"

"Yeah. And you'll be glad to know that there's no umbrella stand here."

"And it's got a much better view," Tonks replied, waving an arm to take in the scenery around the cottage.

The cottage they were in was on a grassy clifftop, with the soft sounds of the ocean permeating from far below. A few trees dotted the area, their branches waving lazily in the breeze.

The cottage itself was much more welcoming than Grimmauld Place had been. It was decorated similarly, true, and the musty smell of a house long left empty still hung in the air, but Sirius felt far more comfortable there.

 _'Don't have as many bad memories associated with this place,'_ he thought.

Of course, that was mostly because he'd barely spent any time there. The last time he could recall his family going there was the summer after his second year at Hogwarts.

Still, pleasant though the place might have been, he would have vastly preferred somewhere with no association to his family.

Unfortunately, they didn't really have that option.

With Dumbledore's death, everyone who had been told the Secret of their previous headquarters immediately became a Secret Keeper. Since the Weasley girl had been told the Secret, the Death Eaters presumably knew it too.

With Grimmauld Place compromised, this cottage was the next best thing. It was isolated, in the middle of nowhere in Wales, and thanks to his family's penchant for paranoia, it, along with the entire area surrounding it, was coated in as many protective enchantments as possible.

It had a brand new Fidelius too, with Moody as the Secret Keeper.

It was as safe as anything could be.

 _'As safe as Hogwarts was meant to be,_ ' he thought with a grimace.

"What's the plan, Sirius?" Tonks asked softly, her hair a mousy shade of brown. "Without Dumbledore... what's the plan?"

_'We kill Voldemort's snake and then him. That's the plan.'_

But that would have been a vastly unhelpful thing to say. Hell, Sirius had no idea how on earth they'd possibly manage that.

"Moody's leading us now," he said. "But I think it'll be much of what we were doing before. Getting as many people as possible involved, trying to get the average witch and wizard willing to fight."

"People are scared," Tonks said with a tremor in her voice that Sirius had never heard before. "Dumbledore was...he was the only one we could see facing off against You-Know-Who. Without him-people are scared. Mum's talking about going to France, and she's not the only one. There's already been a bunch of Aurors heading to the continent, and you can be damn sure a lot of regular folks will follow.."

"We'll make do," Sirius quickly, "you weren't with us last time, Tonks. Even when things are grimmest, there are still people willing to fight."

"They'll be going after the Ministry next," she said. "And there's not that many of us left. What are we gonna do?"

Sirius shook his head, hoping that Moody had some answer to that.

For he had none.

* * *

Cursing, Ron tossed the Daily Prophet aside, his innards squirming with hot guilt.

"I'm such a fucking twat," he whispered, his hands clenching so tightly that he could feel his nails cutting into his palms. "Merlin, I'm an idiot."

"Ron, don't-"

"Don't what?" He snapped, cutting Harry off in the middle of what he was saying. "Don't say the truth? Don't feel bad for getting Dumbledore killed by my own fucking sister? Don't what, Harry?!"

"Beating yourself up helps no-one," Harry hissed, reddening slightly. "Yes, you both fucked up, but now-"

"Can you honestly tell me that you're not pissed at us?" He demanded, propping himself up in the stupid hospital bed. "That you don't think-"

"Of course I am! But I get that you messed up and didn't mean for him to die because of it!"

"It's our fault-"

"So what, you're just going to hide away and-"

The curtains around his bed flew open, Harry's diatribe ending as a Medi-Witch poked her head in.

"Sorry, dears," she said, "but could you keep it down, please? It's disturbing the other patients."

Looking sheepish, Harry sat back down with a muttered apology.

"Sorry," Ron said. "Are you sure we can't put a Silencing Charm up?"

Her smile didn't falter, even though she looked quite annoyed at the question.

"It's still against hospital policy," she said, "Same as this morning. We don't want-"

"Anyone calling for help and not being heard," Ron finished with a sigh. "Yeah. Sorry, we'll be quiet."

"Please do. Otherwise, your permission for extra visiting hours will have to be revoked."

"You can't change the past," Harry said softly, once the curtain had closed again. "Now, all you can do is focus on the future, and on not repeating your mistakes."

Ron nodded, a thick lump sticking in his throat.

"I-we just didn't think," he whispered. "We've been talking about it for months, how we'll-we'll kill her for what she's done. And when we heard that she was there…"

He broke off, that lump in his throat preventing him from speaking.

"We just need to move forward," Harry said bracingly, "it's looking like Hermione's gonna be released near the end of next week, only a few days after you."

"And then…"

Harry shrugged, not quite managing to keep his nerves off of his face.

"Hogwarts isn't opening again this year. Not really surprising, with Slughorn and Lennox dead and Flitwick still in that coma. But next year-I'm not going back."

"What a shocker. But what's the plan?"

"I'll let you know if I can figure one out. Otherwise...otherwise, we're just waiting for an opportunity to present itself. But this won't be over until Voldemort's dead."

"What's with the Order? What're they planning?"

Harry looked down for a moment, seeming to steel himself.

"It's not good," he finally said. "They haven't really figured out anything. Sirius is pushing to be more on the offensive, but Moody... he wants to wait and see what the Death Eaters are up to before we really attack. But we're not really doing anything, and a lot of people are...I don't know, getting cold feet without Dumbledore. Kingsley's still been running those defence seminars, but he says far fewer people are coming. It just seems like there are far fewer people willing to fight, especially since, honestly, we don't really know what we're doing."

A thick silence fell on them, the room seeming to become colder in response to Harry's gloomy speech.

"I don't know," Harry said, "All I know is, we've got to kill Voldemort to finish this."

Ron shook his head, not willing to contradict his friend.

The war might end with Voldemort's death, but no matter what, he and Hermione wouldn't rest until Ginny was dead.

* * *

"The Ministry is now our highest priority," he said, not turning his eyes from the flickering flames before him. "Yaxley, you have assured me time and time again that Thicknesse will soon be ours."

"He will, my lord," Yaxley babbled, the fear evident in his trembling voice. "Another few days, and-"

"I grow weary of your promises, Yaxley. I have been patient until now, but even my patience runs thin. I have no wish to see you until you have taken Thicknesse."

"I-I will-"

"Leave me. Send Weasley in."

Stammering his thanks, Yaxley bowed and departed the room.

"Soon, Nagini," Lord Voldemort hissed, idly reaching down and stroking his snake's head. "Soon, if he has not succeeded, you may have him."

Of course, Lord Voldemort knew that successfully placing Thicknesse under the Imperius was not so simple. He could not quite blame Yaxley for having taken so long.

He knew that it was better for the job to be done slowly and carefully, for great care and caution to be applied.

And yet, he wanted the Ministry to be his. Now that Dumbledore was dead, they were the only thing standing in his way.

Perhaps more importantly, it was underneath the Ministry of Magic that the Hall of Prophecies was located, and it was only there that he could possibly learn what it was that had given the Potter brat the impossible ability to survive.

Unless, of course, they managed to capture the boy, in which case he would be able to study him to his heart's content.

Even so, he was hesitant to act without knowing the full contents of the prophecy. He had used his half-knowledge once before, and that had only led to disaster.

The prophecy would hold the answers, he knew.

The door to his study opened, the flames dancing in the sudden gust.

He turned his head to watch as his most successful servant approached.

Truly, it was remarkable what his horcrux had achieved with her.

Somehow, he had entirely changed her from the naive, innocent little girl she had been into the merciless killer who now stood before him.

Bloodthirstiness such as she showed always required watching, of course. There was always the possibility that she would turn on him. Still, her dedication was more toward him than to the cause as a whole. In fact, he doubted that any of his other servants even approached her level of zealous faithfulness.

Nevertheless, she should never have received his diary in the first place.

It was fitting, therefore, that Lucius' true punishment came at her hands.

She bowed deeply when she drew within reaching distance, holding it for a moment before straightening and returning to her awed gaze of him.

In her eyes, he could see that fanatical loyalty, tinged with hints of desire. She would die for him, he knew, if he was to give the word. She would kill her own family for him.

It was rather refreshing to have such a servant.

"You have taken possession of Draco, have you not?"

"I-I have, my lord."

"As was your promised due," he said, favouring her with a smile. "And yet, I wish for you to keep him alive."

"My lord?"

"Draco's punishment is not merely his," he said, "but it is Lucius' as well. That punishment would be entirely meaningless if Lucius is not aware. You will keep him alive at least until we have freed our companions from Azkaban. After that, well…he is yours to do with what you wish."

Grinning, looking like a normal teenager who had been told an amusing tale, she nodded.

"The time to release our brethren from captivity draws nearer," he said. "I believe you will be suitable to join me for that endeavour."

"Thank you," she whispered breathlessly, "my lord."

"It will not be long until the Ministry has fallen to us. After that, someone will have to...interview your family for Potter's whereabouts. Continue to prove yourself, and you will be the one to do so."

Ignoring her much-repeated expressions of gratitude, he dismissed her, turning back to the fire with his thoughts once more returning to the prophecy.


	37. Fifth year, part five

Year Five, Part Five

"Fifty thousand galleons," Dolohov remarked with a low whistle. "Damn. I don't think I've ever seen any of us get such a high bounty before."

"Well," Ginny chuckled, "I did kill Dumbledore."

"Not only that. Apparently, you're the Dark Lord's second-in-command, and you were the one who masterminded the whole Hogwarts attack."

"Not that I mind taking the credit for that," Ginny said, sitting down and pulling the butter toward her. "But you, Bellatrix, and Rookwood came up with most of the plan."

"That's alright. You can have every Auror wannabe chasing after you. I'm fine with living in obscurity."

Ginny stopped spreading butter over her toast, a thought occurring to her.

"Who do you think told? That it was me to kill him, I mean."

Dolohov out the paper down. A large picture of Ginny standing alone in one of the Hogwarts corridors covered most of the front page.

_'Looks like one of Colin's.'_

"Doesn't have to be that someone told," Dolohov said. "There were enough of those kids still conscious when you did it. The Imperius doesn't make its victims forget what they saw or did."

"I guess. But the whole thing about me masterminding the attack and being his second-in-command. None of those kids could have told them that."

Dolohov shrugged. "Whoever it was, they probably figured they'll give the Aurors something that sounds important, but doesn't actually tell them anything about our future plans. And it's not like you mind. Do you?"

She glanced back at the paper again. In the photo, she was smiling and waving. Beneath the photo of her, there was an announcement for the bounty.

_'Let them all know who I am.'_

"No, I don't mind. Just, now I've got to be worried someone will try and turn me in for that reward."

Dolohov started to laugh and then looked at her, his mirth fading as a slightly confused expression stole over his face.

"You really don't get it," he said slowly. "No-one would dare turn you in."

"I didn't mean one of us," she said, tapping on her forearm. "I meant like-one of the werewolves or Scabior-"

"Even them. Anyone who knows where you are knows well enough to be careful of you."

"Fifty thousand galleons though…"

Dolohov was shaking his head, laughter making him look twenty years younger.

"You're, what, fifteen years old? And that thing they said about you being second-in-command, it's not too far from the truth. I don't think you understand how absolutely insane that is. I don't think you really get what that says about you."

"Yeah, but-"

"Even if none of that was true," Dolohov interrupted, "Even if you hadn't shown how people really shouldn't fuck around with you, they'd still be far too afraid of Bellatrix to do anything against you. You've got nothing to worry about."

Ginny took a bite of her toast, chewing his words over along with the bread.

"You really think people are afraid of me?"

Dolohov paused before answering, seeming to carefully consider what he was about to say.

"Definitely. We've all seen the things you've done, and those who haven't seen have heard about them. No offence, but you can be a bit...brutal. Like with Lupin, and those people you had in the dungeon, and the Malfoy kid."

"Huh. That's useful, I guess."

Dolohov grunted non-committedly, picking up the paper again and returning to his reading.

By the time he spoke again, Ginny had finished her toast and was sipping her tea.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you...doing what you're doing to Draco?"

"I've barely done anything to him. For the most part, I've been leaving him alone."

"Come on," he said flatly. "Yesterday, you had him trying to dodge curses. And that's not what I meant, anyway. I meant, why him?"

"Oh. Well, the Dark Lord said-"

"I know what he said. It's just that-you've never really struck me as the type to torture someone for the pure joy of it. You go a bit overboard, but you've always had a reason for the people you hurt. Why him?"

Ginny cocked her head to one side, thinking about it.

"He's always annoyed me," she finally said. "Annoyed isn't quite right, actually. He's always driven me fucking mad. He'd strut around Hogwarts like he owned the place, just because his daddy had money. Always acting like he was better than everyone else."

"Lucius was like that too," Dolohov said. "Hopefully, Azkaban will have taught him some humility."

"He used to mock me," she continued, ignoring his input. "My whole family, really. Mostly my brother Ron, because he's friends with Potter, but he used to rag on me all the time. And then...when he came here, he was acting like  _I_  needed to listen to  _him._  And then, then he  _dared_  use me as an insult to my brother. That fucking shithead, he doesn't deserve to say my name!"

"Ah," Dolohov nodded.

"What has he even done?" She cried, slamming her fist on the table, her blood suddenly boiling, "what did he have to do to prove himself? His whole fucking family, all they actually care about is themselves! And he still thinks he deserves something because he's a Malfoy! Fuck him! People like him are almost as bad as blood-traitors! I've killed half my fucking family, and people like him think they've somehow shown how dedicated they are?! Fuck that."

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax and picked up the mug she'd knocked over.

"I'm not planning on killing him," she said, her voice coming out more evenly than it had before. "Even if I was, the Dark Lord said not to until Lucius is out. I think-I'm just going to make sure he knows his fucking place, that it's really drummed into him. Then I'll let him go."

"You don't think he knows that already?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"Narcissa put you up to this, didn't she?" She accused.

"Guilty as charged," Dolohov answered, looking not a drop ashamed by the admission. "Said she'd fuck me if I get you to let him go."

"Didn't you say that Azkaban killed your libido?"

"Only mostly. Besides, I'm pretty sure Lucius enrages me as much as his son does you. I'd quite enjoy taking his pretty wife from him."

"Sorry," she said, "but if you want, when I do let him go you can claim you convinced me? Hell, maybe I'll tell Draco you convinced me not to kill him."

"Much appreciated," Dolohov said. "Anyway, are you and Bella going after that Vance woman tonight?"

"Not tonight. I don't know though, I still think if we want to hurt the Order, taking out Moody or Black or Shacklebolt would be the way to do it. Hell, if we go for Mundungus Fletcher that'd basically cut off their connection to the underworld."

"Yes, but-"

"I know," she sighed. "Black is hiding out with Potter in Grimmauld Place, Moody's-"

"Wait. Where did you say Potter and Black are hiding?"

"In Grimmauld Place, you know...their... headquarters."

She broke off, eyes wide.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," she said, her heart pounding with excitement, "Can be found at number twelve Grimmauld Place."

* * *

A cold rain beat down, forming little rivulets around the edges of the Dark Lord's shield.

Ginny wasn't sure exactly what the shield was, but he'd said that it would render them invisible to the outside world, and that was what mattered.

Scarcely an hour had passed since Ginny had realized that she could tell the secret of Order headquarters before she, Bellatrix, and Dolohov had accompanied the Dark Lord to raid it.

Draped around his shoulders, the Dark Lord's snake hissed angrily as he lowered his wand.

"There are no living presences in this house," he announced softly, cold disappointment seeping through his simply spoken words. "Doubtless, they understood the implications of Dumbledore's death before we did."

"I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't-"

"I do not care for apologies or explanations," he interrupted, not looking at her. "I desire results."

Her eyes trained on her shoes, Ginny tried to ignore the burning pit of shame in her belly.

"There could still be information, they often used to-"

"It is possible they were incompetent enough. Well, Weasley. Lead the way."

The door swung open revealing the dark and gloomy entrance hall.

_'It's probably booby-trapped or something. This is punishment for not realising soon enough.'_

Well, she deserved it.

She glanced behind her for a moment. Dolohov was entirely blank-faced, but Bellatrix nodded, albeit looking slightly apprehensive.

_'This is what I get for fucking up. It's only right.'_

Her wand at the ready, Ginny entered the abandoned townhouse.

It was certainly different when empty to how it had been when the Order was using it.

The strange portraits on the walls looked almost predatory, the carpets seeming more motheaten.

None of the tapers set in the walls were lit. The whole house was dark, the sunlight streaming through the few windows doing nothing to lift the gloom.

It was as if, once empty, the house itself raged against any who dared enter.

_'Anything I touch could be cursed.'_

Slowly, cautiously, Ginny made her way down the passageway, careful not to brush up against the peeling walls.

She was just past the curtains blocking Sirius' mother's portrait from view when it happened.

A wispy, ghostlike apparition appeared a little bit further down the hall. Its scraggly beard was matted with blood, its empty eye-sockets set in a skeletal face.

It hovered in place for a fraction of a second before shooting toward her, erupting in a terrifying howl as its arm rose with one finger extended.

Her tongue seemed to shrivel up in her mouth, speech becoming impossible. Jerking back, she slashed her wand through the air, an Explosive Curse leaping from the tip just as the curtains shot open and Sirius' mother began to scream.

Her curse worked, though. The figure blew apart, dissipating into myriads of sparkling motes that hung in the air before vanishing.

Ginny's victory, however, was short-lived. Something had grabbed her foot in an iron grip.

She didn't get the chance to even look down before she was yanked roughly, falling straight onto the floor with her arms splaying out, just barely managing to keep a hold of her wand.

The wall itself had come to life. It rippled, plaster spraying Ginny's prone form as wood tore and broke free, the shape of a monstrous man slowly pulling itself from the wall.

Only its head and torso were visible, its wildly flailing arms showering her with broken-off bits of wallpaper.

Shrieking, Ginny raised her wand.

One of the wall-creature's arms shot out, moving impossibly fast. It seized her arm and smashed it repeatedly into the ground, her wand rolling out of suddenly useless fingers.

Mindlessly, she began to writhe, finally giving in and screaming for rescue.

"HELP, HEL-"

She gagged, frantically swallowing the vomit that flooded the back of her throat, panic beginning to set in.

The creature had  _shoved_ its arm into her open mouth, cutting off her scream and blocking her throat with one move.

She could feel its fingers rubbing at the back of her throat, could taste the dust coating it.

Its lower chest came into view as it continued to pull itself free from the wall, ignoring her hysterical kicks as if it didn't even feel them.

_'I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to fucking die!'_

She was shaking and bucking, pushing with everything she had, punching ineffectually with her one free hand and mindlessly kicking off.

None of it mattered. The creature just carried on, its knees making popping sounds as they left the wall, its pale white face staring impassively down at her.

Everything around her seemed to grow dim, the lack of air finally starting to cut her vision off. She could feel her limbs becoming weaker, her attempts to fight dying along with her.

_'No, no, no!'_

The wall creature shimmered for a moment before  _exploding_ and coating Ginny in a thick layer of fine powder.

Ginny rolled over onto her side and retched, her throat burning as she emptied her stomach onto the carpet.

"I trust that you will not disappoint me in the future."

Ginny forced herself to rise and to face her lord, ignoring the numerous aches from around her body.

"I won't," she rasped, every word an exercise in agony, "my lord."

He nodded absently and turned away, jabbing his wand further down the hallway.

A series of dark grey balls of light shot from the tip of his wand. One by one, they barreled off into the house, smashing into the walls and floor as they went.

The Dark Lord hissed something, and the snake by his legs slithered forward.

"I want every inch of this place searched," he said, before striding into the bowels of Grimmauld Place.

Dolohov walked swiftly past Ginny, patting her on the shoulder as he went. A moment later, Bellatrix was by her side.

"Are you alright, love?"

Nodding, Ginny continued to massage her throat, relishing the sensation of air filling her lungs.

"I think that was Sirius' work," Bellatrix said. "Very much his style. Well, we'll have to work on your Curse recognition. That was an embarrassing display."

"I know," Ginny coughed. "Let's just check this place and get the fuck out of here."

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!"

Emmaline just managed to summon her dining room table into the path of Ginny's Killing Curse.

Her momentary distraction proved to be her undoing, however, as Bellatrix made a slicing gesture with her wand.

As if it were made of paper, Emmaline's head tore from her neck, an impossibly huge torrent of blood erupting from the stump and drenching the room.

Her headless body stood for a moment before realising it was dead and falling forward with a soft splat.

"I really thought she'd be more difficult," Bellatrix said, "why, that was barely a challenge."

"I did say she wasn't one of their better ones," Ginny replied, conjuring up a handkerchief and wiping her face. "We'd be better off going after Moody, or trying to find Black and Potter."

"They'll still be demoralised by this. And we don't have the first place to start looking for Potter and my dear cousin."

"I still think your sister might be involved. She-"

"I told you, her house is protected with far too many enchantments for it to be worth an attempt unless we are absolutely certain."

Ginny sighed, staring down at the decapitated corpse.

It had been over a month since their fruitless search if Grimmauld Place, and they still had no idea where the Order had moved to or what they were planning.

Ginny couldn't imagine that they'd have just fled the country, as many people were said to have done.

Kingsley and Tonks were still reporting for work, at least according to their sources in the Ministry. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to go home afterwards.

There had to be somewhere else under the Fidelius, somewhere big enough for the surviving members of the Order to hide.

"How the fuck are we going to find them?" She muttered.

"They'll pop up in time," Bellatrix said distantly as she opened the nearest bookshelf and began to rifle through it. "Besides, it won't be long until the Ministry will be ours."

"I don't really get it," Ginny admitted. "Do you honestly think that people won't realize we're actually in charge?"

"They might."

Bellatrix pulled a piece of paper from between two thick tomes and tapped it several times with her wand. After a moment, she scowled and wadded it into a ball before dropping it to the ground.

"They might realize," she repeated, turning to face Ginny, "but nothing will be absolutely certain. And once we have the power, they'll be too afraid to do anything anyways."

"Yeah, but-"

"And once they see that we're not doing anything bad to the average witch in the street, they'll stay quiet and stop worrying. Especially when they see how much better everything is when we get rid of the Mudbloods and scum."

"I guess so…"

"Trust me, baby," Bellatrix said, walking over and giving Ginny a kiss on the forehead. "Most people don't care enough to stand up and fight, once they know we're not attacking them. We'll finally be able to just go out and do what we want. Imagine, going for lunch in Knockturn. We'll be able to pay a visit to your family. It'll be lovely, dear."

Ginny squirmed as Bellatrix's hand entered her robes and snuck into her panties.

" _When?_ " She hissed, "When are we taking over?"

"Soon. In the meantime...let's enjoy ourselves."

* * *

"So? How's life been as a wanted criminal?"

Theo chuckled, sipping at his glass of lemonade and staring out at the forest.

It was a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky and the sun beating down on them.

The grounds were covered in new life, fresh grass and reborn flowers, spring having already started a few weeks earlier.

"These last few months have been bizarre," he said. "Of course, I've just been staying at Blaise, so it's been more like a long summer holiday than anything. Last week was the first time they even came to his house."

"And…"

"Well, his mother's still got enough contacts in the ministry to have found out about it beforehand. She hid me in her secret potions lab."

He shivered visibly, an almost fearful expression crossing his face.

"That woman is fucking terrifying." He said.

"What's she got down there?"

"Merlin's balls, Ginny. She's got fucking bucket loads of Veela blood and hair,  _tons_ of Siren scales, and a lot of things I really didn't want to identify. I'm pretty sure...I'm pretty sure she had a fetus in a jar, too."

"That's incredible," Ginny giggled. "How long were you down there for?"

"Over an hour. They had a whole long interview with Blaise, and I had to sit there in this dinghy room with these glowing-hey! It's not funny!"

"It's pretty damn funny," Ginny said, draining her own drink. "I'm just picturing you there, cringing away from her strange stuff."

"Seriously, you have no idea what it was like. At least they bought Blaise's story though. Funny, one of the Aurors came back later with some flowers and an apology for disturbing them."

"What did Blaise's mum do?"

"Probably harvested him for ingredients," Theo shrugged. "I'm telling you, she is one creepy lady."

"She sounds cool."

"She is. How about you? How's it been here?"

"Not too bad. Really haven't done much since the last time I saw you. Bella and I attacked one of the Order people a few weeks ago-"

"The Vance woman?"

"Yeah. Since then, mostly been working on curses, I guess. We hit some muggles in Brixton the other day, apparently, they were connected with the Muggle ministry. And other than that...really, it's been like a holiday. Although, the Dark Lord did say that he'd take me with when he goes to free everyone in Azkaban."

"When's that planned for?"

"Next week sometime, I think. He wants to wait until Yaxley's got Thicknesse under the Imperius, something about how the Azkaban attack will make it much easier to take over the rest of the government."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Still some dementors in Azkaban, apparently. Between them and the released prisoners, the Aurors are gonna have their hands full."

"I'll bet."

"You want any more of that?" Ginny asked, noticing that Theo's glass was empty.

"Yeah. It's pretty good."

Placing two fingers in her mouth, she let out a piercing whistle.

"Uh, you know you can just refill it, right?"

Theo pulled out his wand, hesitating when Ginny shook her head and whistled again.

Draco came running.

Smirking, Ginny glanced over at Theo. Wide-eyed, he stared at Draco with his mouth hanging half-open, a perfect caricature of amused shock.

To be fair, Draco's appearance was rather startling. It wasn't even the black eye and cut on his cheek that demanded attention.

It was the enormous pillowcase he was wearing like a toga and the fact that his ears had been transfigured into those of a house-elf.

After a moment, Theo guffawed.

Flushing, Draco stared at the ground.

"What can I do for you, mistress?"

"Excuse me?"

Draco's blush spread, tears sparkling at the corners of his eyes.

"What can Draco do for mistress?"

"That's better. First, you're going to bring more lemonade. Anything else, Theo?"

"I think I'm good," Theo drawled.

"Ok. More lemonade. Then, when you're done with that, I want you to slam the front door closed on your hands."

"Ple-"

Draco cut himself off with a small shudder and looked down.

"Yes, mistress," he said, his voice choked.

"Do you know why you deserve that?"

He shook his head, still staring at the floor.

She whipped her hand across his face, putting enough force into the slap to send him sprawling to the ground.

He pushed himself up almost immediately.

"Do you know why you deserve to slam your fingers in the door?"

"No, mistress," he replied hoarsely.

"Because I want you to. Because you annoy me. Because you still think you're something more than what you are. What are you?"

"I-Draco is nothing," he said, tears streaming down his face, his voice shaking, "Draco is worthless."

"That's right," she said softly. Almost gently, she reached out and seized the long hair at his nape. Tugging on it, she forced him to look at her.

"I'll let you go when you actually believe what you just said. When you aren't trying to convince me anymore, and you know that you're just saying the truth. Now, go do what I told you."

Draco ran off.

Theo was goggling at her, his face a picture of horrified admiration.

"You and Blaise's mum would get along really well," he finally said, seeming to overcome his shock. "Merlin's balls. Is that what you've been doing to him all this time?!"

"Kinda? I mean, I only call him like once or twice a day. The rest of the time he just does whatever he does. I keep his wand, of course."

"Of course," Theo echoed.

"And-well, I used him to test a few spells the other day, but really I'm just leaving him alone for the most part."

"Fucking hell. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Laughing, Ginny punched him softly on the arm.

"Don't worry. You're not nearly stupid enough to do something like that."

* * *

"Success, my lord," Yaxley reported, looking extremely chuffed. "Thicknesse is now under the Imperius. Not only that, but I managed to have Gareth Robards and his two bodyguards placed under it as well. The Chief Auror is now under our control, as is the assistant Minister for Magic."

A low cheer went up around the room, Dolohov actually stretching out and clapping Yaxley on the back.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord hissed. "You have served me well, Yaxley."

"It is my honour, my lord."

"Indeed. How much longer until Scrimgeour can be removed?"

Yaxley looked down, as if to gather up his courage before speaking.

"A matter of weeks, my lord, if that. In the meanwhile, with Thicknesse and Robards under our control, we will be able to truly prepare for the transfer of power."

"It must be utterly seamless," the Dark Lord said. "Even if the common folk understand something has occurred, they must not be allowed to truly see what has happened."

"Understood, my lord. We have already begun preparing the smear campaign against Potter and Dumbledore, as well as spreading rumours that Scrimgeour will step down. Tomorrow, Robards will hire approximately thirty new Aurors. Scabior has promised that he can supply at least that many of his fellow…"

"Once we have cleansed Azkaban, there will be more. Well done, Yaxley.'

"Thank you, my-"

"The time has come," the Dark Lord said, focusing on Ginny, "to release our captive brethren. And then we shall finally take ahold of this land, once and for all."

* * *

"We think Robards is under the Imperius," Kingsley said solemnly, looking far more stressed than Harry could recall ever seeing him before.

Kingsley and Tonks had urgently called the meeting, saying they'd got important news to share. Even on such short notice, everyone had come.

Fred and George were sitting next to Mundungus, near the bottom of the table. Beside them, Hagrid sat on a specially reinforced chair, a large yarn of wool and two knitting needles in his lap.

Hestia and Elphias were on Hagrid's left, while McGonagall, Bill, Fleur, and Sirius were on a series of stools by the counter.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had the last seats at the table, as Moody kept pacing around the kitchen.

It was rather depressing, really, to see how few of them there were, and of those that were there, so few were from the original Order.

 _'Robards,'_ Harry thought, looking around at the worried faces.  _'He's Chief Auror, isn't he?'_

"Are you sure?" Moody barked.

"No, Mad-Eye," Tonks answered wearily. "We just called this meeting for a lark. If he isn't under the Imperius, I'm a Harpy."

"What's he done?"

"He's hired about twenty new Aurors. Scabior's one of them, the rest seem to be his friends."

Mundungus swore loudly, but so did Hestia and Sirius.

"Uh. Who is this Scabior guy?" Asked Ron.

"He's a right cunt," Mundungus answered immediately, "Not quite a Death Eater, but he's always hanging around them. He was good friends with Greyback, always used to see them together."

As soon as Mundungus stopped speaking, Sirius continued. "He's one of those people always hanging out in Knockturn Alley, usually with a group of others like him. The type to hire if you want anything done and don't care about the law."

"And now he's an Auror," Tonks said. "Another thing, Robards had made it so that no-one can enter the Department of Mysteries. He says it's cause You Know Who wants something from there, but I think it's to make sure we don't take the prophecy before they're ready for it."

"Dung? You heard anything lately?"

Mundungus shook his head slowly, pulling his pipe out of one of his pockets.

"You know how it is, Sirius. None of them want to even talk to me anymore. They can see the way the wind is blowing. I'm telling you, smartest thing we could do is get to the continent. I've got a contact in Belgium-"

"There's a rumour going around that Scrimgeour's planning to step down," Kingsley interrupted. "Which really doesn't seem in character. Makes me think they're planning to take him out quietly."

"Can't you do something about Robards?" Harry asked desperately. "There are ways to break people out of the Imperius, right?"

Kingsley shook his head sadly, but Tonks answered.

"If they got to him, it means they got to his bodyguards as well. We try anything, likely we'll be cursed next. If we aren't arrested or killed immediately."

"We have to do something," Hermione cried. "We can't just sit here while they take over the country."

"We should be out fighting." Sirius agreed.

"Fighting who? It's not like-"

"Better than being-"

"ENOUGH!"

Everyone shut up at Moody's shout, a thick silence falling on the room.

"We're not attacking anyone until we have a plan," Moody said. "Now, the only way we're actually going to get anywhere is if we take He Who Must Not Be Named down."

"Pity no-one's ever tried that." Sirius said pointedly. "Fucking hell, Mad-Eye, it'll be much easier to get anywhere if they're not in control of the damn country!"

"And where do you propose we start? We don't have a plan!"

"We've been sitting here and working shit out for months and we still-"

"Without Dumbledore," Hestia started, but Sirius spun toward her, growling softly.

"Don't you start that shit. Dumbledore's dead, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"What we need," Ron said loudly, "is to capture a Death Eater. That way we can at least get some information."

"Bravo. And where do you say we get one?"

"Well, at least it's an idea!"

Everyone started shouting again.

Fred and George were an inch away from Kingsley, both of them gesticulating wildly. Sirius and Moody were both shouting so loudly Harry seriously doubted either of them could hear what the other was saying.

Standing up, he drew his wand and aimed it at the ceiling before firing off as loud a bang as he could make.

"Voldemort wants me," he said, once they had quietened down and turned to face him. "We can use that. If we set it up so he thinks he'll get me…"

"That's not a terrible idea," Moody said, "in fact, it's something I've been thinking about. But it would require a hell of a lot of preparation, and the chances of failure are incredibly high. We'd need to be somewhere that the terrain itself favours us."

"Somewhere like Hogwarts?" Asked Hermione.

"Possibly. Possibly. But it's something we'd have to work out extremely well first. We'd need to have him extremely outnumbered for us to even have a chance."

"It's worth it, though. The risk."

Moody nodded, absently stroking his chin as his magical eye spun around his head.

"Aye. But not until we've got it really clear."

"I still think we need to try and capture one of them," Ron grumbled. "We need information, and they're the best people to get it from."

"I wonder if there's any Death Eater in particular you're thinking of, boy?" Moody snapped.

Ron's hands bunched themselves into fists as the tips of his ears reddened.

Fred, George, and Bill all stood up, the same furious expression appearing on their faces.

"I get it," Moody said quickly, holding one gnarled hand up, "I do. But your revenge will have to wait until we've dealt with the bigger problem. Going headstrong after her and ignoring everything else will just get people killed."

Looking like he'd been punched, Ron dropped back into his chair.

"Well, I think we can adjourn-"

"Oy, Mad-Eye. My mum says there's been someone popping into the edges of her property and poking at the enchantments. They've been kept out so far, but she asked if we could keep up the patrols there."

"She thinks it's your aunt?"

Tonks nodded grimly, her hair turning a deep black for an instant.

"Tell her we'll keep a watch, but any sign that the enchantments are failing and she and your dad should get over here straight away. Ok, anything else?"

Nobody said anything.

"Then let's call this meeting to an end. Let's hope we've got something better to report next time. In the meanwhile, we're continuing as we were. Just remember-"

"Constant vigilance," Harry muttered to Ron.

"Always be prepared." Moody finished, his revolving eye landing on Harry and stilling.

* * *

"The Dark Lord said we're going to Azkaban tomorrow."

Bellatrix's hand continued its slow journey up and down Ginny's thigh, the nails just prickling the skin.

"I hope you're prepared," Bellatrix finally said. "Just being there-I don't know what Erkizdis did to it, but even without the Dementors it would be terrible."

"They're on our side though, aren't they?"

Bellatrix stopped stroking her.

Turning around, Ginny saw her lover's eyes misty in remembrance, the corners of her mouth twitching restlessly.

"They're on their own side. You shouldn't trust them, nasty, hateful  _things._ "

"But they-"

"Probably won't attack you, not if you're with him. But you'll still feel their presence, you'll still remember...everything you don't want to."

Closing her eyes tightly and grimacing, Bellatrix shook her head.

"They're not like us. They don't think like us, they don't feel like us. They're only with us because our lord lets them have more souls than the Ministry. If they thought they'd do better on their own, that's what they'd do. If they even think at all."

Bellatrix shuddered, an incongruous tear slipping out of her eye.

"It's  _terrible,_ there."

Ginny twisted, throwing her arms around Bellatrix and pulling her close.

Bellatrix was shaking, her heart pounding fit to burst.

"You're not there anymore," Ginny whispered, "you're free, Bella. You're not there anymore."

It took a while, but eventually, Bellatrix's sudden panic passed.

Ginny stayed in that position until it did, just holding Bellatrix against her and murmuring soft, comforting nonsense.

"You are a delight," she finally said, pulling away from Ginny and stretching out like a cat. "And I'm sure you'll be fine. You'll be with him, after all."

"Yeah. Bella...I really think we should be trying to find your niece, she's-"

"There's no need to bother yourself with that half-blood brat. She's too fresh a member of that Order to be anything important anyways."

"I know it's hard to think about killing family, but-"

"Enough."

Bellatrix's voice had gone cold, her back suddenly stiff as a board.

"Enough, love. Go to sleep. You need to be in top shape for tomorrow."

_'Yeah, it's easy enough for her to talk about me killing my family, but when it comes to her sister and niece…'_

Sighing, Ginny quelled that traitorous thought and lay back down.

Bellatrix  _did_ have a point though. Azkaban was known to be a hellish place for a reason.

 _'I'll talk to her about it again afterwards,'_ she decided.  _'When I can think properly, and she can't use it as an excuse to shut me up.'_


	38. Fifth year, part six

Year Five, Part Six

The sea crashed against the rocks, a cold spray of salty water flying up and colliding with the edges of the Dark Lord's shield.

Azkaban was as dreary and bleak as Ginny had imagined. An enormous squat black fortress, it stood perched on the crumbling island like a vulture.

It was comprised of enormous black stones, each of them covered in obscure runes that Ginny couldn't recognize at all.

Something about the strange symbols hurt the eye, making Ginny feel dizzy whenever she tried to focus on them.

The prison emanated a gloomy sense of unknowable horror. Even just looking at it, Ginny felt tiny and weak, her life a matter of no significance.

Everything seemed darker there too. Even though it was a cloudless night, a pall covered the sky, the moon and stars providing barely any illumination.

The air felt like ice, far colder than even the night and sea should have caused.

_'Fucking hell. I think I'd go mad if I had to stay here for a while.'_

Beside her, the Dark Lord whipped his wand like a lasso and hissed out an unfamiliar incantation.

The shadows around him condensed, an enormous snake appearing beside him formed from dark fog that seemed to suck at the weak light around it.

Nagini rose, baring her fangs at the newcomer.

"The Patronus is not the only defence against Dementors," he said, noticing her stare. "Much as the Ministry would have you believe it is. They wish us to be too afraid to even meet with our natural allies."

"What is it?" She asked, entranced by the strange appearance of the misty snake as it coiled around Nagini, both of them hissing softly.

"A spell of my own devising. Perhaps one day I shall teach it to you."

"I-I would like that, my lord."

His head snapped up and to the right, the two snakes at his feet mirroring him instantly.

She felt the Dementor's presence before she saw it.

Her blood turned to ice as a cold pit of dread opened in her belly and a series of memories flickering before her eyes like photographs, none of them staying for more than a second or two.

Luna was falling to the muddy ground, her eyes empty and dead.

Percy was begging her not to kill him.

She was waking up in the Chamber of Secrets, with Potter comforting her and saying that he'd killed Tom.

Higgs was pumping into her, grunting and moaning.

She was lying in the grass outside the Death Eater hideout, having failed to capture Potter.

The Dark Lord's conjured snake suddenly rose into the air, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into reality.

It slithered in front of them, hissing softly, that strange darkness misting off of its form.

It didn't give off warmth like a Patronus, instead emanating a total sensation of numbness that cut off the Dementor's effects so suddenly Ginny gasped.

She then noticed the Dementor. It was hovering a few feet away, prevented from coming closer by the Dark Lord's spell.

The Dark Lord stepped forward, his gleaming eyes level with where the Dementor's should have been.

Ginny waited patiently, her wand at the ready. He'd warned her about this beforehand, telling her that he and he alone would be negotiating with the creatures and that she was to stay out of it.

Still, if the thing showed any sign of betraying him, well…

Frankly, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't cast a Patronus, and had no idea what the Dark Lord's spell even was. Nevertheless, she was quite certain that even a Dementor would be scared off by Fiendfyre.

Neither the Dark Lord nor the Dementor moved an inch, both of them simply standing there and staring at each other.

The air between them grew thick and hazy, the heady scent of ozone filling her nose.

Abruptly, the Dementor turned around and glided back toward the prison.

"The Dementors will begin destroying the Aurors," the Dark Lord said, finally turning to face her again. "And will then return to Britain. We will redeem the prisoners. Come."

They walked toward the prison, the Dark Lord moving smoothly over the uneven, rocky ground, while Ginny's feet seemed to find every crack and hole in the ground.

They stopped outside the prison doors. They were enormous, dwarfing even the Dark Lord's tall figure.

The doors were hanging wide open, revealing a long stone hallway. There was a metal gate halfway down the hallway, with an empty guard hut beside it.

From within the prison, screams began to sound, blood-curdling wails of agony and fear.

As they stood there, an Auror came running backwards down the hall, a Patronus leaping from his wand.

With a lazy gesture, a Killing Curse shot from the Dark Lord's wand, smashing into the Auror's back and dropping him bonelessly to the floor, his Patronus vanishing as he died.

The ground rumbled as the Dark Lord waved his wand, stone and dirt pulling itself together and rising, taking the shape of a monstrous four-legged beast with enormous curly horns.

He jabbed his wand forward, sending the creature bounding into the prison, its footfalls sending tremors through the ground.

Responding to her master's hissed command, Nagini slithered forward, following in the earth-golem's wake.

He waved his wand and a series of flaming balls appeared, immediately arranging themselves on the ceiling just ahead of the entrance.

"Come," he ordered as he began to walk, entering the fortress.

Gritting her teeth, Ginny followed.

The globes the Dark Lord had conjured moved with them, sliding across the roof and casting blazing light upon the prison.

The hallway seemed endless once they were past the abandoned guard post and the dead Auror, the ceiling slowly getting shorter and shorter until it was just clearing the Dark Lord's head.

After a few minutes, Ginny realized that if not for the lights he had created and strange glow of the snake he had conjured, she and her lord would be standing in pitch darkness.

From the distance, the screams were still echoing, although Ginny now fancied she could almost make out words.

_'Must be some of them who managed to get Patronus' in time.'_

As they walked, Ginny began to  _feel_  something, as if the prison itself was breathing and murmuring something just on the edge of hearing. It snuck into her mind, a creeping icy feeling of despondency and hatred, that pit opening up in her belly again.

It was as if all the heartache and anguish she'd ever experienced was surrounding her, myriads of invisible demons just pressing her to give up and give in, to just sit down and weep.

"You can feel it, can you not?"

"I-I can, my lord. What is it?"

"It is a marvel. Not even I know precisely what Erkizdis did. However, the effects are readily experienced."

He glanced over at her, a sneer tugging at his lipless mouth.

"At least, they are readily experienced by those who have not mastered the art of Occlumency. Even now, hundreds of years after his death, the emotional onslaught his experiments created still continues."

"It's terrible," Ginny whispered, unthinking.

"It is a marvel. The suicide rate among Aurors unlucky enough to be stationed here long term is over fifty times that of the rest of their miserable force. It is not merely due to Azkaban's security and location that there have been so few escapes. It does not take long for one to lose all motivation in this place."

The Dark Lord finished talking just as they neared the end of the hallway. Another metal gate stood open, next to yet another abandoned guard post.

Three Aurors lay on the floor, all appearing to be sleeping.

Ginny knew better.

Past them, there was a third open gate, and beyond it was the prison proper.

The loud shouting in the prison died almost instantly as Ginny and the Dark Lord entered, with one cry of "IT'S THE DARK LORD!" echoing around the room.

It was an enormous, cathedral-sized room, easily as large as Hogwarts' Great Hall. Cells lined the walls, with stairs leading up to the two large balconies that ran around the walls and allowed access to the higher cells.

It was hard to tell from she was standing, but it seemed like most of the cells were empty.

The strange snake he had conjured hissed loudly and sprung forward, rising up before the Dark Lord.

An instant later, Ginny saw why.

A Dementor was gliding across the floor, that terrible cold emanating from it.

As before, the Dark Lord stepped forward and met its eyeless gaze, the air between them growing thick again.

While they engaged in whatever method of communication it was they were using, Ginny took the chance to look around, paying closer attention to an empty nearby cell and trying, with all her might, to ignore the terrible feelings Azkaban had instilled in her.

The cell was tiny, smaller even than her bedroom had been at the Burrow. A small, heavily barred window in the stone wall afforded a view of the waves crashing up against the island's rocky coast.

There was a small cot up against the wall, just about big enough, she estimated, for someone slightly taller than her.

There was a single moth-eaten blanket and a pillow that looked like it was made of bricks.

In the corner of the cell, there was a gleaming steel bucket, the blue paint on it having almost entirely peeled off.

Other than that, it was empty.

"Is he-is he here to let us out?"

Ginny jumped at the sudden whisper, her wand rising with the incantation of a Killing Curse jumping to her lips.

Heart pounding, she located the source of the sound and lowered her wand, taking a step closer.

The wizard who had spoken was in the cell to the left of the empty one she'd been examining.

His emaciated arms were poking through the bars, his face twitching restlessly.

"Is he-"

The wizard broke off, giggling insanely.

"Yes," Ginny said. "We're here to rescue you. All of you."

He just continued to laugh, tears streaming down his face.

"To me."

Ginny left the cackling wizard, turning back to her lord at his call.

He was standing in the very centre of the room, the black ghostlike snake coiled at his feet once more.

Of the Dementor, there was no sign.

As she drew close to him, the Dark Lord suddenly rose gracefully into the air, his wand stretched out toward the far wall.

He continued to rise as if hoisted by invisible cables until, when he was half-way to the ceiling, he stopped, hovering in place instead.

"You all know who I am," he said, "and indeed, I have come to release you from this damnation. However, your freedom will come with a price. I demand obedience. If I release you, you  _will_ serve me. There will be no turning back. If you think to agree and then flee, you will find yourself wishing you had chosen otherwise. You will serve me, or you will remain here. You have ten minutes to decide."

With that, he dropped back to the ground, ignoring the mutters and cries his speech had roused and striding over to a small door set in the wall with Ginny following.

The door opened up to a tunnel with a steep downward slope. After a few minutes of walking, they came to another door, a thick piece of metal that looked like it could have withstood an army.

It was a pity, therefore, that it had been ripped from the hinges and left lying on the ground.

Through the open doorway was a large room, with two thick doors set in opposite walls.

The earth-golem was standing on all fours just in front of one of the doors, a low rumbling growl vibrating from its throat.

Nagini was coiled on the floor, her eyes trained on the door.

The rest of the room was a scene of carnage. At least eight bodies lay in varying states of disarray, some looking to have been bitten by Nagini, others to have been mauled by the golem, and yet others simply lying there with blank faces.

There was an overturned table on the floor, a pack of cards scattered around the room, and several broken chairs.

"When the door opens," the Dark Lord said as he strode over to Nagini, "You will open fire. Everyone within is our enemy."

Nodding, Ginny raised her wand, while the Dark Lord twisted his own through a series of elaborate gestures.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

And then, with no warning, the door vanished, a blindingly bright jet of light making spots dance in front of Ginny's eyes.

Before they'd even cleared, before she could even see what was going on inside the room, she acted.

A Killing Curse spat from her wand, followed immediately by another, and then a third.

The earth-golem leapt into the room with its claws waving, and the Dark Lord released another spell, something that made the entire prison shake.

There was one long, drawn-out wail from within the room, and then everything fell silent.

Walking forward, Ginny made out the bodies of four Aurors. The golem was still savaging one of them, unspooling his intestines as it tore at his belly.

Another flash of light occurred behind her, making Ginny spin around.

The Dark Lord was standing with his wand stretched out toward where the other door had been, and what was now an enormous corridor.

On both sides of the corridor, she could see cells set in the walls. They seemed far more secure than the other cells she had seen; the bars were thicker and closer together, with strange runes engraved into the metal.

From each cell came a chorus of cheers and cries of gratitude.

"My friends," the Dark Lord said softly, the cacophony dying the instant he began to speak. "It is time for you to be imprisoned no more."

The shouts that followed were deafening.

* * *

"I did it!" Hermione exclaimed breathlessly, holding up the golden coin and tapping it with her fingernail. "It worked!"

"So now everyone who's got one of these can send messages with them?" Asked Sirius.

"Yes. And it means-"

"We've got a network of people looking out for us," Ron finished, smiling grimly. "Any Death Eater goes near Diagon or any of the major centres, we'll know about it. This is going to make life far easier."

"Aren't most of your club at school?"

"No," Harry answered, leaning forward. "At least a third of them were meant to be finishing now. But I don't really see the Death Eaters just casually doing their shopping. Do you?"

"Course not. But if the Ministry falls, they won't be hiding anymore. And we'll have enough people scattered around that we'll find out where they are."

"Not to mention, if the Ministry does fall, it'll be useful to have information from inside Hogwarts. Good work, Hermione. Impressive."

Hermione nodded at Sirius' compliment, barely even smiling.

"You're set on capturing one of them," Sirius asked, glancing at Harry for a moment before turning his attention back to Ron and Hermione. "Aren't you?"

"Don't tell me you're taking Moody's side," Ron accused. "You said you thought it was a good idea!"

"I still do. I'm just worried-"

"We're not going to-"

"We're worried that you're going to go after Ginny and ignore everything else," Harry interrupted. "We should get a Death Eater if we can, but it doesn't need to be  _her_."

"She killed my parents," Hermione said, her voice entirely expressionless.

"And she as good as did mine. We're not just going to let her go."

"I'm not talking about letting her go if we can get her! We're just saying that if we're looking out for a Death Eater it doesn't have to be her specifically!"

"It doesn't," Ron agreed. "But you know, we aren't going to fucking rest as long as-"

"Maybe you should try and remember what happened last time you ran after her without thinking!" Harry snapped, jumping up. "Fucking hell, you can't just-"

"We're going to kill that bitch, and if you aren't helping-"

"Harry, she killed my parents! How can you-"

"SHUT UP!"

They fell silent at Sirius' shout, Ron still looking furious while Hermione's face went blank again.

"Listen," Sirius said. "I'm with you guys. We get her,  _if_  we get the chance. But if the chance comes up for another Death Eater, we take it. You've got to remember that while Voldemort is still around, nothing will ever finish. If we get her, but it makes us lose the war, would it be worth it?"

Scowling, Ron shook his head and dropped back into his chair.

"Good. So, we just need to think things through. We need to have plans ready, in case one of them is spotted, alone."

Sirius held up his hand as Ron opened his mouth, hurriedly continuing to speak.

"If they're in a group," he said, "all it takes is a second for one of them to summon Voldemort. We can't risk that, not if there's so few of us. You know Moody won't sign off on this, so it's just the four of us for now."

"With them having infiltrated the Ministry so deeply," Harry asked, a horrible thought occurring to him. "We've got to worry about the Trace, don't we?"

"Only until your birthday. That's next week, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but can't they extend it?"

Shaking her head, Hermione answered.

"No. The Trace is an immensely complicated magical working. They can't alter it for individuals."

"That's something," he sighed. "At least. I still think that if we can set up defences at Hogwarts and get Voldemort to come there-"

"It's an option," Sirius said. "But not a real one until we know what's going on. If the Ministry does fall, Voldemort will take over Hogwarts. We'd have to have control of it for your plan to work. And we'd need a way of getting people in and out."

"It's still an idea."

"That it is. We just need to make sure that our ideas aren't half-assed."

"And for that," Ron sighed, "we need to wait and see."

* * *

"It will be done tomorrow, my lord."

A round of cheers went up around the room at Yaxley's announcement.

Grinning, Ginny nodded across the table at him, quietly relishing the fact that she was still seated at the Dark Lord's right.

The table had been enlarged since the Azkaban raid a month previously. It was slightly disconcerting to look down and see such a long stretch of seats, but it was comforting.

At the very bottom of the table, Lucius sat beside his son, with Narcissa on his right.

The Malfoy patriarch hadn't spoken much since he'd been freed. He usually sat as he did now, his right sleeve flapping pointlessly and his face long and wan.

It had been quite shocking for him when they'd gotten back to headquarters and Ginny had cursed Draco in front of him. Frankly, she had meant it to be shocking.

Even now, he didn't look as if he believed it. Every few seconds, he stole a glance at his son and flinched, the sight of Draco's ears and clothes seeming to offend him.

"Excellent. Excellent. Well done, Yaxley. And then Hogwarts will fall into our hands. Rookwood, you are prepared to take on your role as Headmaster?"

"Gladly," Rookwood responded, "my lord."

"Good. And our new Dark Arts and Muggle Studies professors are prepared as well?"

Jugson and Rowle both nodded, Jugson looking far more pleased about the prospect than Rowle.

"You all have your orders for tomorrow," the Dark Lord continued. "I expect them to be carried out to the fullest. I want Potter's location."

Gritting her teeth, Ginny banished the sudden nerves that fluttered in her belly and nodded.

She would carry out her orders, no matter what it took. Her family would have Potter's location, or at least something close to it.

She'd do what she needed to.

"Tomorrow, we will finally take control of this country," the Dark Lord whispered, the soft sound carrying through the room and igniting a thread of excitement within her. "Tomorrow, we will take what is owed to us."

* * *

She stood on the small hill near the Burrow, with Bellatrix standing beside her and gently stroking the back of her neck.

Slowly, she forced her breathing under control, forced herself to relax.

The moment she'd crested the hill and saw her old home, her knees had almost given out and terrible anxiety had flooded through her.

She'd prepared herself for facing her parents and whichever of her siblings were around, but she hadn't prepared herself for the sight of the house.

In the two years since she had last been there, so much had changed for her.

And yet, the Burrow looked exactly like it had when she'd last seen it.

At this very moment, she knew, houses belonging to members of Dumbledore's Order were being broken into all around the country.

It was only fair, really, that she should have to deal with her family.

 _'They're just stupid blood-traitors,'_ she told herself.  _'I don't care about them at all. I don't. I cared about Luna, and I still killed her when I needed to. I don't care about them, and even if I did, I'd still do whatever I have to. I can do this. I can do this.'_

"I can do this," she muttered, her wand creaking under her grip.

"You can, love," Bella whispered. "You can."

Ginny nodded, that terrible feeling slowly ebbing away.

Still, she could feel a thick tension within herself, like there was a wire stretched as taut as possible in her chest.

"Rowle's coming," Bellatrix said, "are you ready?"

"I am. I'm fine."

Bellatrix chuckled softly, her hand still on Ginny's neck.

"Good. You know, I really can't believe you grew up in a shithole like this. How did you manage?"

"I managed fine. Why isn't he hiding?"

Rowle walked through the Burrow's garden, making no effort to stay out of sight. Since he was visible, he'd obviously removed the Disillusionment Charm. As he drew closer, Ginny made out the laughter etched into his face.

"Stunned them already," he called cheerily, "Only the three of them. No other humans in the house. I'm ready when you are."

For a moment, Rowle's face was blotted out in a red haze. Blood rushed in Ginny's ears, a terrible fury overshadowing even the tension she was feeling.

"You did  _what?"_

"Stunned them," Rowle shrugged. "They were sitting around the kitchen table, not even bothering to look outside. Got them all before they even realized anything was up."

Ginny's wand snapped into position, the incantation springing to her lips with no thought required.

"CRUCIO!"

Rowle dropped to the grass, his limbs shaking as he rolled over and wailed.

"You were just supposed to look!" Ginny cried, ending the curse, "You weren't meant to do anything, you stupid-"

"Why are you doing?!" Bellatrix hissed, seizing Ginny's shoulder. "It's fine! It's better this-"

"He shouldn't have! They're mine-they-"

Ginny shook her head, that sudden anger seeping out and leaving a confused jumble in its wake.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, that tension in her feeling like it was going to snap.

"Sorry," she said, walking over to Rowle and helping him up. "Sorry. Just-leave them to me. Leave them to me."

"N-no problem," he stammered, "I thought-"

"Come on," Ginny called as she began to walk toward the house, focusing with everything she had on not thinking, not feeling. "Let's do this."

The outside of the Burrow may have been the same as Ginny remembered it, but the inside seemed to have changed almost as much as she had.

 _'Mum must not have been cleaning,'_ she thought,  _'Fucking hell.'_

Thick piles of dust had built up in the corners of the room, and some mould had formed on one of the walls. Many of the photographs had broken frames and ripped edges. Looking closer, Ginny noticed with a pang that there were no more pictures of her in the lounge. In fact, she seemed to have been torn out of any family photographs.

_'Don't think about it, don't think about it, just do what you need and get out.'_

As if she was in a trance, Ginny walked around, trailing her fingers over furniture and watching as her childhood played out before her eyes.

There was the coffee table on which she'd chipped a tooth when she'd been chasing Ron and tripped. There was the bookshelf she'd knocked over with a fit of accidental magic.

There was the rocking chair her mother had always sat on while knitting the annual Weasley jumpers.

There was the clock, with its hand for each family member. A large crack ran down the glass cover. All the hands were pointing at 'Mortal Peril.'

Well, all the hands except hers, Charlie's, and Percy's. Those were nowhere to be seen.

"Love? Come, we need to actually do what we came here for."

Slowly, she walked to the kitchen, feeling almost as cold and empty as she had in Azkaban.

Her mother, father, and Bill were all unconscious.

Bellatrix and Rowle had propped them up on some chairs and taken their wands. The three pieces of wood were sticking out of Bellatrix's pocket.

_'Don't think, don't feel. I don't care about them, I don't! They're just blood-traitors! Just stupid blood-traitors!'_

"Let's go," Ginny said, raising her own wand. "On three. One, two, three. Rennervate!"

Immediately, her mother blinked, waking up, with Bill and Ginny's father doing the same on her sides.

Her father was staring at her through blood-red, bleary-eyed, looking exceptionally confused.

As she looked at them, a torrent of memories tried to rise, snatches of their voices as they spoke about how much they loved and cared for her.

The sight of them and the sound of their remembered words set her aflame. She could think of nothing, nothing but the urge to run, the urge to stay there and punish them. She was shaking, she realized, her breath coming in short gasps.

She took a deep breath, emptying her mind.

"Get out!" Her mother cried, voice choked, "Get out of here, Ginny, you are-"

"Shut up! Shut up, don't say my name!"

"Please," Bill begged, "please, don't-"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

She took another breath, feeling Bellatrix's comforting presence right behind her and forcing herself to relax.

That urge to lay waste to her family grew stronger, all but overpowering her.

"Where's Potter? Where is he?"

"We don't know," Bill said immediately, "we don't-"

"And Ron? And their Mudblood? Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY?"

"You did this," her mother spat, staring at Bellatrix with deepest loathing in her eyes. "You dirty bitch, you stole my daughter!"

With a wild screech, Ginny slashed her wand through the air and tore open a deep gash in her mother's cheek.

"Shut up, shut up!"

The blood running down her face and her wide eyes made her mother appear quite insane. She bared her teeth, looking like she was going to leap from the chair.

"GET OUT!" She screeched, "YOU LEFT US, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE HERE!"

"We don't know! I promise, Ginny, we don't-"

Spinning, Ginny shrieked out a Cruciatus, sending it into Bill and smashing him off of his chair.

He fell to the floor where he writhed and screamed.

"WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?" Ginny cried, ending the curse and turning back to her parents. "DO I HAVE TO KILL MORE OF YOUR CHILDREN TO MAKE YOU TELL ME? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?!"

"We don't know," Bill repeated, his voice mushy from the curse's aftereffects. "We  _can't_  know, it's a Fidelius. Please, Mum's not in her right mind, please, just-"

"I'm going to kill you," her mother sobbed, "you were my daughter, I loved you!"

Her face was twisted in perfect anguish, the words she was saying seeming to hurt her as much as they did Ginny.

Her father, however, was staring at her, an expression of shocked recognition on his face.

"Ginny?" He asked, his voice sounding oddly disjointed. "Is that really you?"

The tension in her making her feel like she was going to explode, Ginny tossed her head back and screamed wordlessly, a non-verbal Cutting Curse flinging itself toward her father.

It missed, slicing open a hall in the wallpaper.

"It is you," he said, as if he hadn't noticed anything. "Ginny, I love you, I'm so-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The Killing Curse struck her father right in the chest, his body careening onto the floor.

With a loud wail, her mother launched herself from her chair, arms outstretched toward her husband's corpse.

Screamed, Ginny snapped her wand forward and hit her mother with a Blasting Hex that smashed her into the wall.

Someone was laughing, cackling insanely. After a moment, she realized it was her.

She was laughing, and yet she could taste the salty tears streaming down her face.

"CRUCIO!"

Again, Bill screamed, his body spasming like he was having a fit.

"WHERE'S YOUR FIANCÉ? COULDN'T YOU HAVE FOUND A HUMAN GIRL? DO YOU HAVE TO LOWER OUR BLOOD EVEN MORE? FUCKING TRAITOR BASTARD!"

With every screamed word, she slashed her wand, cut after cut opening on Bill's groaning form.

"WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE THE FUCK IS POTTER?"

"They're under the Fidelius," Bill moaned. "Somewhere in Wales. Please, that's all we know. Please, just leave us!"

She put him under the Cruciatus again, his agonized screams filling the kitchen once more.

"TELL ME WHERE HE IS! WHERE IS HE?!"

Her mother crawled over to him, waving her arms and mouthing out something frantically.

She could just barely make out the sound of her mother begging over Bill's pain.

Laughing, she ended the curse and faced the woman who had given birth to her, catching sight of Bellatrix and Rowle as she did.

Bellatrix was watching it all with a wide smile, looking prouder than Ginny had ever seen her.

Rowle, on the other hand, looked like he was sickened.

"Where are they?"

"Leave us alone," her mother sobbed, her voice so thick that Ginny could barely make out what she was saying. "Just leave us! You've got nothing to do with us anymore, just leave us alone!"

"Where. Are. They?"

"Even if I knew," her mother declared defiantly, her eyes burning, "I wouldn't tell you. TRAITOR!"

Ginny's wand tip made figures of eight in the air as she aimed and yelled out the curse.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Her hand was shaking so badly that the spell missed. Instead of her mother, it hit Bill.

For a moment, Ginny just stared, feeling like she was going to explode.

 _'I've murdered half my siblings,'_ she realized, and laughed again.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID!" She shrieked suddenly, "LOOK! YOU MADE ME DO IT, YOU STUPID BITCH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!"

She raised her wand again and stopped, all at once a thousand memories of her mother cramming her mind.

_'I can't, I can't, I can't!'_

The need to leave thrummed in her, the urgent necessity to not stay in the house she grew up in for a moment longer.

If she stayed, even just long enough to end her mother's miserable life, she'd go mad, or explode, or that tension in her would snap and kill her.

"Let's go," she said, turning away from the horror she had wrought, her gorge rising. "Let's get out of here."

"Love, you should-"

"LET'S GO!"

Suiting action to word, Ginny ran out the back door, not even pausing for long enough to cast the Dark Mark before disapparating.

* * *

"Fucking useless," Ginny spat, pacing restlessly in her room, "bitch, it's her fault, I should have-how dare they-somewhere in Wales, fucking hell!"

Giggling, she turned around and waved her wand, a Blasting Hex throwing Draco into the wall again.

He barely even reacted. All he did was groan and try to curl himself into a ball once he had come to rest on the floor.

"I don't care about them. They're not my family anymore. They cast me out, they took me out of their pictures and clock. They deserved it."

Draco moaned, blood pouring out from the dozens of cuts and gashes dotting his body.

When Ginny had arrived back from the Burrow, she'd run straight to her room, avoiding everyone.

That tension had been driving her mad, the terrible icy cool in her stomach making her feel like she would go mad.

She'd thought of grabbing the knife, then, of grabbing it and slicing it into her skin and feeling the sweet relief from thought and feeling the pain would bring.

For the first time in ages, she'd thought of it.

She'd decided, however, that there was a better way to release her tension.

And so, for the past hour, she'd been toying with Draco.

"Crucio!"

Draco's screams were far softer than when she'd started, his voice already hoarse.

"Fucking piece of shit," she said, ending the curse and giving his shaking body a kick. "I don't know why I even let you live. What's the fucking point? Why shouldn't I just kill you?"

Draco just continued to sob pathetically, blood and snot covering his face.

"I did the right thing. No-one can doubt it anymore. No-one can possibly think I'm not the most dedicated. It doesn't even matter. They don't matter. THEY DON'T FUCKING MATTER!"

Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the wall, forcing her mind to clear.

"I don't care. I don't care anymore. I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want. I'm going to kill them all. All of them."

"That sounds like a lovely idea."

Ginny spun at the sudden speech, her wand flying up as her heart started racing again.

Bellatrix was standing in the doorway, her eyebrows arched at Ginny's wand.

"Are you going to curse me, love?"

"No."

When Ginny lowered her wand, Bellatrix entered the room.

Sighing, she nudged Draco's back with her foot.

"Get out. Now."

Trembling and whimpering, Draco pushed himself to his feet and began to limp toward the door.

"Wait," Ginny called.

Draco turned to face her, starting to cry in earnest again.

"Go to your father," she ordered. "tell him this is all his fault. Tell him the way I'm treating you is his fault. Tell him how much you hate him."

"Dr-Draco will do that, m-mistress."

"I'll know if you don't. Go on, get the fuck out of here."

When the door closed behind Draco, Ginny dropped into her bed and giggled, that twanging tightness in her chest making her feel like she would lose her mind.

"Oh, love," Bellatrix said softly, walking over and sitting beside her, gently running a hand over Ginny's back.

"You did well. You did."

"Thanks," Ginny whispered, the scene from the Burrow starting to play in her mind again, a shiver running through her.

"We left your mother alive," Bellatrix said. "So that next time, when you're not too weak to do what needs to be done, you can finish it."

Ginny raised her head, her blood suddenly aflame.

"When I'm not feeling so weak?"

Bellatrix seemed not to notice Ginny's change in mood.

"Well, you couldn't quite kill her, could you? I understand it is hard, but you can't allow your weakness-"

"You understand nothing!" Ginny cried. "Your muggle-loving sister is still alive! How dare you-"

"Shut up. Shut up about-"

"NO!"

Ginny jumped to her feet, her body shaking with pent-up fury.

"You've had years, years to kill her! Her, and her daughter, and even though they're part of Dumbledore's gang you-you fucking left them! Don't call me weak!"

Bellatrix moved almost too quickly for Ginny's eyes to track. Her hand shot out, whipping across Ginny's face and leaving burning pain in its wake.

"Shut up," Bellatrix hissed. "Stupid little girl, you don't know-"

"No! How dare you! What have you done for him in the last fifteen years?! I've sacrificed everything! I killed Dumbledore! And you think he still trusts you more than me! You-"

Bellatrix slashed her wand, a Cutting Curse leaping from the end of it.

Ginny just managed to twist, the Curse slicing open her shoulder instead of her throat.

Pure fury overtook her, the tense wire in her chest snapping.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Roaring, Bellatrix summoned the bed into the path of the curse. It exploded when the emerald jet hit it, shards of wood flying everywhere.

Immediately, the pieces all flew at Ginny. Her hastily cast Shield Charm only stopped half of them. The others flew through and crashed into her, leaving cuts and bruises, with one of them impaling itself deeply into her arm.

Snarling, she leapt forward, ignoring the pain. Blisteringly fast, she waved her wand, sending spell after spell at her lover. Killing Curses, Explosive Hexes, and Severing Charms flew with equal measure.

Something hit Bellatrix, bowling her over and making her head collide roughly with the wall.

"Fucking bitch!" Ginny spat, "You call me weak, when you-"

She lurched, a terrible agony registering in her torso as a hot wetness spilt over her waist.

She looked down, expecting what she would see but still being shocked by it.

Her belly had been torn open. Thick, dark blood was pouring out, the undulating coils of her intestines just visible through her ruined flesh.

The strength fled from her legs, dropping her to her knees.

"Little cunt," Bellatrix growled, standing up once more. "Cruci-"

Ginny snapped her wand, putting all her strength into the Blasting Hex.

It smashed right into Bellatrix' chest, sending her flying straight through the wall as if it were made of paper.

_'Come on, come on!'_

Ginny began to run her wand over her belly, muttering out the incantation for the healing spell Bellatrix had taught her. The skin started to knit itself together, but blood was still seeping quickly through and her vision was growing dim with every passing second.

Someone let out a shocked exclamation behind her.

Turning her head took the last of her strength. As she took in the sight of a bewildered Dolohov, Ginny fell over, a last laugh tearing itself from her throat.

She could feel the blood bubbling out of her mouth with her spittle, could taste it on her lips.

 _'I couldn't kill my one mother,'_ she thought,  _'And so my other one had to kill me.'_

And the darkness claimed her.


	39. Interlude X

Interlude X

"I just can't believe it," Ron said hoarsely, wiping at his red-rimmed eyes. "It just doesn't feel real."

Harry nodded, silently handing Ron the tea he'd made in lieu of actually saying something.

Honestly, he couldn't think of anything to say.

The last twenty-four hours had been insane, far too chaotic and insane for him to even begin to process.

There'd been Kingsley's Patronus, announcing Scrimgeour's death and that he and Tonks would be making their way to the safehouse immediately.

Not too long after that, Hestia Jones had arrived at the safehouse as well, having just managed to escape a group of Death Eaters.

Right at that time, the DA coins began to heat up, message after message appearing on them. It seemed that the Death Eaters were going after Harry's friends, questioning them one by one as to his whereabouts.

Thankfully, none of them had been killed, or even hurt particularly badly. They'd all been roughed up and threatened, of course, but no-one was left with lasting injuries.

After that, the Order members who were there had started discussing a plan of action, how they would go and check up on the other members and their allies.

It was then that George arrived, just as they were planning to go and check on the situation at the Burrow.

He hadn't even needed to say anything for them to know that something terrible had happened; just his expression and the almost-dead paleness of his freckled skin was enough.

And, try as Harry might, he knew that even if he somehow managed to outlive Nicholas Flamel he'd never forget what he saw when they went to the Burrow.

Seeing Arthur and Bill's corpses would have been bad enough in a vacuum. Seeing Molly lying on the floor between them howling out her agony and rage...well, that was a whole new level of torment.

They hadn't been able to stay there for fear of the Death Eaters returning, but they had stayed long enough to bury Bill and Arthur, another experience Harry knew he'd spend a long time trying to forget.

Fleur had arrived at some point during the burial. She'd broken down almost as badly as Molly had, her beauty transforming into a terrible vision of grief.

Fred and George had escorted Molly to the cottage where Bill and Fleur had been planning to live, with Moody following to put the place under the Fidelius, leaving the rest of them to return to the safehouse.

"It just-"

Ron cut himself off with an odd coughing noise and a shake of the head.

"I still find it doesn't feel real sometimes," Hermione said softly. "And sometimes it does. I'm not sure which is worse."

"It just feels like-like it's worse that she killed dad than-than Bill and Charlie and Percy."

He buried his face in his hands again, his shoulders shaking.

Throwing an arm over Ron's shoulders, Harry pulled his best friend close to him, wishing that he could think of something better than what he was about to say.

"We're here for you, Ron," he said, "we're with you, mate."

Ron looked back up, his face unreadable.

"If you really are, you'll help us get her. You'll help us do whatever we must to put her down."

Slowly, Harry nodded.

* * *

He held his wand before his eyes, letting the sight of his faithful companion fill his thoughts.

It had served him well for many years. With it, he had proven his superiority, time and time again.

But now, perhaps, was the time for him to attain another, one that would serve him better in his fight with his prophesied foe.

The prophecy itself was too vague, unclear almost to the point of meaninglessness. Two facts, however, were clear from it.

Potter would have to fall at his hands, his and no other's.

Well, perhaps that part of the prophecy was not entirely literal. It certainly could mean that the events he set into motion could lead to Potter's death.

Or vice versa.

Nevertheless, he would not rely on that interpretation. As long as Potter lived, as long as the rebellion he figure headed continued, Lord Voldemort would not be entirely safe.

He would have to kill Potter himself, to ensure that none dared stand against him.

The other fact was far more worrisome, enough to arouse that strange, trembling sensation in his heart once more.

Potter had power, some power that he had not mastered.

Of course, he was intelligent enough to have an idea as to what that power was. It was only fitting that Dumbledore's successor should be graced with the power Dumbledore had so long championed.

It fit perfectly with all the anomalies surrounding the boy, even his survival the previous year.

Love, at least, in this case, was nothing more than the use of sacrificial magic, the willingness for a person to go so against their natural instinct that they would give up their lives for the sake of another.

This, Lord Voldemort knew, had been his mistake the previous year. When his servants had sent Potter that letter, when they had told Potter to give himself up in place of his friends, he had allowed the boy to follow in his mother's footsteps.

He would not make such a mistake again.

Unfortunately, love was a notoriously difficult branch of magic to dissect and analyse. Much of its workings were based on abstract, vague principles, many of which changed depending on the situation.

There were next to no clear underlying foundations of it, very few strands he could seize and tug until, as with other areas of sorcery, his will and power overwhelmed the enemy.

But, it seemed, there might be another way for him to grab an advantage, another method of destroying Potter for once and all.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see his servant following his gaze, staring fearfully at the thirteen inches of yew he held.

He was not surprised that his followers were so in awe of his wand. All too often they forgot that it was  _he_ who performed such wondrous magic and that his wand was merely a tool, albeit his best and most consistent one.

Idly, he wondered how they would react when he was in possession of the Deathstick.

For Ollivander had spoken of it, after the endless torture Lord Voldemort had put the old wandmaker through before mercifully ending his pitiful life. First, he had tried to suggest that he, the greatest dark wizard to walk the earth, should use the wand of another, should simply borrow a wand that a  _normal_ witch or wizard had already bespoiled with their mediocrity.

Eventually, however, he had spoken of the greatest wand to ever exist, one which, truly, only Lord Voldemort was worthy of wielding.

Though it pained him to leave Britain just after finally taking it, he had no choice. If, and so Lord Voldemort believed, Potter was capable of wielding this power of love, Lord Voldemort needed something of equal or greater power.

Frankly, he had no interest in trying to unravel the mysteries of that weakest emotion. He had seen, all too many times, what it could do to even his most loyal and dedicated servants.

Finally, he lowered his wand, turning his burning gaze onto Yaxley.

"When Weasley is woken up," he said, "you will convey my message to her."

"I will, my lord."

"Repeat it to me."

"You do not care what quarrel she and Bellatrix have with one another, but you will not allow the two of them to go to war. She and Bellatrix may continue to loathe each other or return to their previous relationship, but they will fight no longer. If they do so, they will face your wrath."

"Correct. And you will inform Bellatrix of this as well when she is located."

"I will. And I will-"

"Continue to operate according to my orders. If Potter's location is confirmed, you will summon me at once. Any other problems that arise, I expect you to deal with them, or prove yourself unworthy of the position I have granted you."

Yaxley nodded, his face taking on a slightly greenish tinge.

"For how long will my lord be away?"

"As for that, Yaxley, I do not know. But I do expect all will run smoothly in my absence, regardless of how long it will take."

"Of course, my lord."

* * *

She kept her eyes trained on the house, fury warring with that strange, burning emotion she still felt. Her stomach twisted around itself, an odd, uncomfortable warmth filling her.

For the first time in decades, Bellatrix Lestrange was ashamed of herself.

Disgustingly embarrassing though it was, her baby was right.

She had been weak.

She began to laugh, her eyes twitching.

She, weak? She was the most powerful of them all, she'd served the Dark Lord faithfully since the day she'd graduated Hogwarts! She had been of the few to search for him, and she hadn't lost faith in Azkaban. She'd spent every day awaiting him, knowing that he would come and rescue her and she would be free to serve him once more.

"How dare she call me weak?! Stupid little bitch, I  _own_ her!"

But she had been weak.

More than just weak, in fact. She'd fallen into the same trap she'd sneered at so many others for, and she'd been too foolish to even recognize her hypocrisy for what it was.

For years, she'd avoided going after Andromeda.

She had been foolish to do so.

Hope and nearly-forgotten love had sung their siren song to her, forcing her to think that maybe, just maybe, Andromeda would repent.

It was a foolish hope, but it had existed nonetheless.

How was it that  _she_ , the Dark Lord's favourite, would fall into such a ridiculous way of thinking?

"She was always the best of us," she whispered, a childhood image of Andromeda dancing before her eyes.

Andromeda had been  _perfect_ , in ways that she and Narcissa could never quite manage to achieve.

She'd never been prone to the furious fits that had gripped Bellatrix, had never thought too highly of herself as Narcissa had.

She'd been fun and amusing, and the perfect daughter their parents had deserved.

Well, she had, until that Mudblood had ruined everything.

And like a coward, Bellatrix had left her be.

Oh, she'd had excuses, dozens of them over the years. Andromeda would surely come to her senses, she'd told herself, or she was too busy with other, more important tasks.

She'd lied to herself for decades, and it had taken her lover to see the truth.

Slowly, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the newspaper clipping she'd saved for months.

Her breath hitching, she ran her fingers over the picture, smiling at the visage of the daughter she'd never had.

Ginny was everything she wanted. Vivacious and tough, dedicated and hardworking, talented and smart.

She was beautiful, delighted in violence almost as much as Bellatrix herself did, and was one of the very few people Bellatrix truly enjoyed spending time with.

She was a stupid little girl, easily malleable into whatever form Bellatrix wanted her to take.

Staring at the picture, Bellatrix felt that weakest and most despicable of emotions rearing up in her.

For the first time, she could almost understand why her sister had abandoned her family for an animal.

But still, Ginny had hurt her worse than Bellatrix could even begin to describe.

Even so, Bellatrix wanted to return to her. Every inch of her cried out for her baby, for the sweet intoxicating calm she felt just from being with her.

There were so few people who, when she was with them, Bellatrix felt she could just  _be._

In fact, Ginny was the only one.

And, Bellatrix knew, Ginny had once been possessed by a piece of the Dark Lord's soul. Being with Ginny, therefore, was as close as she could get to being with the Dark Lord.

But could she do it? Could she bite down on her pride and go crawling back?

Could she admit to Ginny that she had been right?

"Never," she giggled, "never, never, never! She should apologize to me! She's _mine_ , she had no right! Disgusting, incredible little cunt, she had no right!"

Did she even have another option?

The last few days felt like a blur to her. She had vague memories of running from place to place after her fight with Ginny, of frantically Apparating and fleeing with no destination in mind, barely pausing long enough to heal herself.

She'd had to run. The Dark Lord, she knew, would not be pleased with her and Ginny's fight.

She'd fallen into one of her rages at some point, blacking out and only swimming back into consciousness hours later. It had been almost surprising to find herself in a Muggle home with the mutilated corpses of the residents scattered around her.

She'd stayed in that house for almost a week, she thought. Time had seemed to stretch and dilate, the lonely hours crushing in on her and reminding her, with every tick of that stupid Muggle clock, of her time in Azkaban.

She'd stayed there as long as she could, hiding out and raging, breaking everything the dead family had owned and screaming for her baby.

And then, of course, she'd ended up here, just outside her traitorous sister's house, set, finally, on cleansing the taint that had infected her family.

She would kill Andromeda and would then return, triumphant, to her baby, baring her sister's head as proof that she wasn't weak.

Ginny would then realize how wrong she had been and everything would go back to normal, and all these ridiculous self-recriminations would vanish. She'd prove, once again, that she did not suffer the same foibles as others. She would show herself to all as the most dedicated to blood purity.

But she'd come too late. Andromeda, for all her faults, was not stupid.

She and her animal had fled, abandoning their house. By all signs, it had been empty for a few days at least.

Now, Bellatrix was left with the option of staying alone forevermore, of reneging on her promises to her lord and staying far removed from the rest of them, or of returning to her baby with her tail between her legs.

She refused to even contemplate the possibility that Ginny hadn't survived. She had meant to kill the girl, but sharp regret had struck only moments later.

It was a terrible wound that she'd inflicted, but as Ginny had banished her, she'd seen Dolohov walking into the room. Healing that injury would not be beyond his skills.

No, Ginny must have survived. She must have. Bellatrix would not allow it to be any other way.

"It will hurt to go back," she told herself. "But I can't stay away. I made a promise to the Dark Lord."

She glanced down at her arm, at the comforting sigil branded there.

As always, it raised her spirits.

Staying away was not an option. But she was afraid, deathly afraid that something had been irrevocably changed in their relationship.

If, somehow, it could go back to how it had been, then there was not even a question as to what she should do.

But with her having fled, she was worried that her baby might have an inflated sense of sense. It was possible that her baby might even have forgotten her place.

If Ginny thought she had the upper hand, if Ginny tried to be in control…

Love her as Bellatrix did, she knew she could never let that happen.

"I'd kill her," she cackled. "And she'd deserve it. She made me love her, and she isn't _allowed_  to just change things now. She isn't."

But what could Bellatrix do?

"Perhaps," she whispered, "I could tell her that she was right. I could apologize. And then, before anything has a chance to change, make things how they were. I could do it."

She could, she realized. It would be hard, it would be painful, but it would not be as painful as losing Ginny.

It would not be as painful as loving her.

"But not yet."

She rose, drawing her wand and pointing it toward the house.

"Not yet. Soon. Not yet. Let me see how I feel without her a little longer. And if the Dark Lord has need of me, he can summon me. Yes, I'll take some time."

Cackling, she waved her wand through the air, a powerful burst of flame spurting from the end.

In minutes, the small house before her was engulfed in fire, lighting up the night with its merry blaze.

Laughing, Bellatrix clapped her hands, the joy of destruction blotting out that terrible shame she felt.

"I'll take some time for  _myself._ And if I still want her so badly in a little bit, I'll do what I must. But only if I'll still be in control. That wonderful little bitch won't have me. I'll have her."

Still laughing, Bellatrix spun on her heels, a crack sounding as she Disapparated, leaving her sister's home to burn to the ground behind her.


	40. Sixth year, part one

Year Six, Part One

Her toes curled as her hips began to shake and buckle, the orgasm starting to burn through like an all-consuming fire.

"Don't stop," she moaned, "Fuck, Bella, fuck, don't stop!"

In answer, the tongue continued its work between her legs, the hands still roaming over her hips and rubbing on her clit.

The skin around her groin felt sensitive almost beyond words, every touch on it seeming to pull on her nerves and twist them through a furnace of ecstasy.

Thought vanished in the wake of the all-encompassing bliss.

Shuddering, she arched her back and half-rose from the bed. Then, with another moaning cry, she fell back down, the mind-blowing sensation already slipping from her.

She lay there for a few minutes, just coming back to normal, her breath slowly changing from gasped pants into its normal rhythm, her heartbeat slowing.

Then, without warning, she pulled her leg back and released it forward in a powerful kick, hitting Draco in the face and propelling him halfway across the room.

Her laughter drowned out his pained gasp, the shocked expression on his face only serving to increase her amusement.

She'd done the same thing to him almost every time she'd made him pleasure her, and he still was surprised.

Her juices glistened on his chin. Unlike the first few times she'd had him eat her out, there was no erection making a tent in his toga.

She'd taught him better than to allow that to happen.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Draco lives to serve his mistress," he said listlessly, his voice dead and empty. "All Draco wants is to serve his mistress however she desires."

Ginny chuckled, beckoning him to come closer.

He did, without a moment's hesitation.

She snapped her hand forward, picking up the dagger as she went and slicing it across Draco's chest.

It cut right through his toga, leaving a thin bloody line over his pale skin.

"You don't sound like you mean it. Are you growing tired of your life? Do you want me to set you free?"

Some unreadable emotion flashed across his face, there and gone in a second.

"Draco just wants to make his mistress happy."

The dagger cut into his cheek, slicing right through the mark her foot had left.

"Come on, Draco," she said, dropping the playful tone. "Be honest. I won't punish you for telling the truth. I promise. Answer me, Draco. Do you want me to stop ordering you around? Do you want to stop being my slave?"

"Draco only-"

"I'm being serious," she hissed. "Tell me the truth!"

He stared at her for a long moment, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Yes," he whispered. "Please, I've done everything you wanted, you don't have to do this to me! Please! I'm sorry for what I did wrong, but please, just let me go!"

The dagger whistled through the air, tearing his other cheek open and leaving a flap of skin waving.

With a squeal, he dropped to his knees, hands flying up to his face.

"You call yourself Draco," she giggled. "Not I or me. And I already told you, I'll let you go when you can say that you live to serve me and sound like you mean it."

Draco began to sob, pitiful whimpers that made him sound like a kicked puppy.

"You're disgusting," she told him. "You really are. You're just so  _pathetic._  Now, fuck off and make me breakfast. And what will happen if you get the elf, sorry, the  _other elf_  to do it?"

"You-you'll punish Draco."

"That's right. Go on, shoo."

Blood trailing from his cuts, Draco fled the room.

Her mirth still shaking her, Ginny sat up, idly running her fingers over the letters engraved in her thigh.

With a sigh, she got up and pulled some clothes on, taking a few moments to check her appearance in the mirror, smooth down her robes, and run a brush through her hair.

That done, she drew the curtains and looked out the window, sighing again.

It was another dreary day. A consistent, weak drizzle fell over the grounds, the wind blowing through the trees and making their empty branches wave like skeletal arms.

At Hogwarts, she knew, the Quidditch season was probably just starting again.

She glanced back at the door, making sure that it was closed and that no-one else was present in her room.

Only then did she allow the sob to wrench itself from her throat.

It had been two months since Bellatrix had vanished, and Ginny still instinctively cried out her name in bed.

Merlin, Ginny missed her.

The last two months had been bizarre almost beyond words, full of bewildering, conflicting emotions.

When she'd first woken up, with her belly still aching from whatever curse Bella had used, she'd been more than enraged. She'd been ready, in fact, to hunt Bellatrix down and kill her.

Then she'd been told that she'd been unconscious for days and that nobody had seen or heard from Bellatrix in that time.

Her rage had vanished almost instantly, loss and anguish taking its place.

It had only gotten worse when Yaxley told her how disappointed in her the Dark Lord was and that he too had left.

She hadn't left her room for over a week after that, just moping in her bed and watching the sun rise and set.

And then Bellatrix had been seen.

Well, she herself hadn't been seen, but who else would have burned down Andromeda's house?

It had to have been Bellatrix, and if anything, it was a sign that she'd taken what Ginny had said to heart.

But then Bellatrix hadn't come back. As the days stretched into weeks, Ginny's confused hope that everything would just go back to normal slowly shrivelled up and died.

Bellatrix had hurt her deeply, true. But without Bellatrix, Ginny felt nearly as lost as she had in that terrible time after Tom had been taken from her.

It was like she strapped to a tether that had suddenly and bewilderingly come loose and was flapping in the wind, with no clear path ahead of it.

Without Bellatrix, Ginny just felt empty and as alone as ever she had.

Had she forgiven her?

Well, she wasn't quite sure of that. What Bellatrix had said had been hurtful and needlessly cruel, and Ginny was quite sure her lover wouldn't bother to apologize.

But, forgive her or not, hate her or love her, Ginny felt that she  _needed_  her.

Slowly, over the past two months, she'd pulled herself almost back together. It seemed like she had spent much of that time in a daze, with her memories of it more fleeting images than true recollections.

She'd used the knife on herself again, crying and moaning for Bellatrix to return and that she was sorry.

She'd raged, coming within an inch of murdering Draco as she'd released curse after curse on his trembling form.

She'd wandered listlessly around the Death Eater hideout, picking up books only to put them down minutes later, always feeling like she was searching for something.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if there had been something for her to actually do. With the Ministry having fallen to them and the Dark Lord abroad for whatever reason, however, she had no orders, no missions to carry out.

She had nothing.

It was as if her vision of the future, so clear until then, had just misted over and vanished in a cloud of smoke.

No matter how angry she was with Bellatrix, if she was around at least Ginny wouldn't be so lonely and lost.

_'Maybe I should have listened to Dolohov.'_

She shook her head, hissing softly.

That would have been even worse.

Dolohov had suggested that she return to Hogwarts. Not only would it make them all look better, given that Hogwarts attendance was now legally required, but it would give her something to do.

Frankly, after everything she'd done, Ginny just couldn't see herself happily going to class, or socializing with all those children. Honestly, she would be more likely to get mad and kill one of them than to have a conversation.

What she really needed was a friend. Bellatrix had been far more than a friend to her, and if it was possible to turn back the clock, Ginny thought she gladly would.

Still, with Bellatrix's absence, Ginny would happily settle for just a friendship.

Dolohov was still around, of course, and he was always good to talk to, but he was busy so often.

There was Draco, but Ginny was quite sure that if she tried to chat to him and just hang out, she'd probably end up poking his eyes or something.

Theo would have been good, but he was in Hogwarts.

_'Why don't I go and visit him?'_

She paused, her reflection biting her lip at her.

She could. She'd gotten so used, over the past few years, to hiding out in the headquarters, that even now that she hadn't been a wanted fugitive for months, she still hadn't really thought about leaving.

She could. She could go to Diagon or Knockturn, could go shopping and buy whatever she wanted, on the Malfoys' account, of course.

She could go hunting muggles, if she wanted, could carry on searching for the remaining members of the Order.

And she certainly could go and visit Hogwarts, if she wanted.

_'That's only one day, though. I need something permanent, something that's keeping me busy all of the time!'_

_'It's better than nothing,'_ she told herself angrily.  _'What, I should just do nothing unless I've got something permanent?'_

Shaking her head, Ginny left her room and made her way down to the kitchen.

A plate of bacon and eggs was waiting at the table for her with a glass of pumpkin juice and a folded copy of the Daily Prophet beside it.

Dolohov barely looked up when she entered, still completely engrossed in Skeeter's book. By the look of it, he'd been in that position for a while; the bowl of porridge in front of him appeared closer to cement in consistency than something actually edible.

Draco was hovering anxiously next to the table, nervously glancing from Ginny to her breakfast.

"Leave," she ordered, sending a Stinging Hex at his legs when he was still there a moment later.

Squealing, he left the room.

"You need a hobby," Dolohov announced, putting the book down and turning his attention to her.

"What, like reading about how Dumbledore had Grindelwald fucking him? No thanks."

"You know full well that's not all the book's about, and you're changing the subject."

The bacon crunched in her mouth. Draco really was learning to make it as she liked it.

She'd have to have him cook something else, just to keep him on his toes.

"I know I need something to do. Any suggestions?"

Dolohov shrugged and gave his mug a tap with his wand. A moment later, it began to steam.

"Do something you like. I like reading, and I've always liked studying magical theory. Hell, I'm thinking of actually writing up a treatise on the Unforgivables. There's a reason I was in Ravenclaw. What do you like to do?"

"I don't know. I liked the fighting, I guess, but now...I don't know. Do you think Rookwood would let me visit Hogwarts? On a weekend, I mean."

"I thought you hated the idea of going back there."

"I'd probably kill someone if I had to sit through a class," she agreed, pausing to take a sip of the juice. "But I'd like to see Theo, and I just need to get the fuck out of here. I haven't left this place in months."

"Yeah, you do. Hell, even I get out more than you. Why don't you just go and do something? Go out for lunch, or grab a beer or something?"

"Because it's boring as fuck to do that by myself!"

Dolohov nodded, humming as he tapped his bowl of porridge and stuck a spoon into it.

"Rookwood would probably allow it," he finally said. "If only because you're the Dark Lord's favourite. But only if you promise not to kill any of the kids."

"Not unless I have to."

"At all. The Dark Lord was very clear about that. He doesn't want their parents thinking they've got nothing left to lose. So, if you can convince Augustus you won't leave a pile of bodies, you've probably got a decent chance."

"Yeah. I'll speak to him. Thanks."

She returned to her eating, cognisant of his eyes still focused on her.

After a while, she put down her fork.

"What?"

"I really do think you should spend some time out of this place. It's not good to be cooped up for too long. Trust me on this."

Nodding, Ginny returned to her food, ignoring his watching eyes.

_'I'll speak to Rookwood today. Hell, maybe I can even go this Saturday. Maybe it's a Hogsmeade weekend.'_

As long as it went better than the last time she'd been in Hogsmeade, it'd be great.

* * *

"Some of that spell work was shoddy," Moody said tiredly, finally lowering his wand. "I'm surprised it lasted until now."

"Just be impressed, Mad-Eye. We were teenagers when we made it "

Harry ignored them, eagerly peering at the desk.

Sitting there, beside the original, was another copy of the Marauders Map.

As he watched, he could see the small dot labelled Augustus Rookwood moving around the Headmaster's office. Bile rose in his throat at the sight, the thought of a Death Eater taking Dumbledore's place making him want to be sick.

"If we got everyone sympathetic to the cause, we  _might_ be able to do it. We'd need to kick out those Death Eaters and do something about the older Slytherins, but we could pull it off."

Kingsley nudged forward, tapping the Map with his wand.

"We place people here, here, and here, taking them out from above. We'd need to thin out their forces and push You Know Who into the Great Hall with as few of his followers as possible. Then, if we're lucky, we could overwhelm him."

"If I'm in there," Harry offered, "he'd come through. Unless he thinks that he can draw me out."

"And that's exactly what we want. He's good, but if we've got him surrounded and are attacking him from all points-"

"And none of that," Moody growled, "would be worth anything if he's not there. We need confirmation that he wants to be called back if you're seen."

"Katie heard-" Ron started, but Moody quickly interrupted.

"She heard two Snatchers talking in the Leaky Cauldron. I doubt either of them has ever even met You Know Who. No, we need information from a better source."

"You've been arguing against capturing one of them for the last two months!"

Moody shook his head and rapped his wooden leg against the floor several times, making an odd, staccato rhythm.

"I've been arguing against putting your bloodthirst ahead of brains and just running in like an idiot. Granger, how's that Veritaserum coming along?"

"Still another two weeks," Hermione said, not looking up from the leather-bound tome in front of her.

"So, we need to wait," Moody said with a tone of finality. "Which is better, because the more we can plan-"

"We don't need Veritaserum," Ron stubbornly said. "Kingsley can do Legilimency, and we can always make them talk without it. We don't-"

"Have you ever seen someone tortured for information?" Moody asked, his magical eye whirling around like a spinning top. "Have you, boy?"

Glowering, Ron shook his head.

"Well, I have. Many times. You hurt them enough, they'll tell you anything to make it stop. Whatever they think you want to hear. They're not going to be caring about the truth."

"Maybe," Sirius said, "But we-"

"Classical interrogation won't work with the real loyal Death Eaters," Moody cut in. "They're far more afraid of You Know Who than of us. We need an edge. Yes, we could torture them to make it so they can't think clearly enough for Occlumency. It's an option. But Veritaserum is more reliable, if they're not prepared for it. So, I say we wait, and that's that."

"What do you want us to plan for?" Harry asked. "It's not like we know when any of them will be around on their own. We'll only find out once someone actually sees one of them!"

"Valid point. So, we carry on planning how we'll do this Hogwarts thing, once we find a way in. We carry on convincing our allies to join when the time comes, and we carry on smuggling Muggleborns out of the country. And there's another thing you're all forgetting."

"What's that?" Sirius asked.

"The snake. We need to kill it too."

Looking puzzled, Kingsley asked, "What's so important about the snake?"

"I'll explain later," Sirius muttered, frowning at Moody. "Mad-Eye, by all accounts he takes it with for anything important. Remember what the survivors from Azkaban said? He let it go off and kill them while he was doing something else."

"Exactly. He won't have it next to him. So, while we're all going to be focused on taking him down, who's going to deal with the snake?"

"I'm sure we can figure it out then."

"No. We can't. Because whoever it is will need the sword."

"The sword's not the only way to destroy them," Harry pointed out. "Dumbledore said-"

"Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre. Those are the only two others we know for sure. Condensed Nundu breath might do it, but it's never been tested. The Killing Curse would take out the snake, but we can't be sure about the thing inside it."

"What are you-"

"Later," Sirius interrupted, clapping Kingsley on the back.

"Once we're in Hogwarts," Moody said, "We might be able to get more basilisk fangs, if we can get into the Chamber of Secrets. Pity you're not a Parselmouth anymore. But I'm not willing to risk Fiendfyre in a place like that castle, not if there's any other choice. So yes, we need to have someone with the sword going after the snake. A team, preferably."

"First we should focus on how we're getting in. The Map is a help, but there were places we never got on there, like-"

"The Room of Requirement!" Hermione gasped, dropping her book and immediately fumbling in her pocket. "That's it!"

"No way," Ron said, in a hushed tone, "you think it'll give a passageway out?"

"Only one way to find out," Hermione muttered, fiddling with the coin she was now holding.

A moment later, Harry's coin heated up in his pocket.

 _'Finally,'_ he thought,  _'at least we have an idea.'_

* * *

"It must be interesting for you," Rookwood said, "to return here as the victor. A pity you elected not to re-join us this year."

"I still think I made the right choice," Ginny said, picking up one of the silver instruments and examining it for a moment.

Rookwood hadn't changed Dumbledore's office too much, as far as she could tell. Dozens of strange silver instruments still dotted the room, some of them buzzing softly.

One of them, which looked like a bowl attached to a pole, was spinning around restlessly, a ringing noise sounding every time it completed a full revolution.

Ginny was quite sure, however, that the bookshelf full of treatises on the Dark Arts had not been there in Dumbledore's day.

Rookwood was sitting before the great mahogany desk. Behind him was the wall adorned with portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses past.

Dumbledore was staring at her, unspeaking, from his portrait, his piercing eyes filled with immeasurable sadness.

"I mean," she continued, "I don't really think I'd have fit in with any of these kids. Do you?"

"Perhaps not," Rookwood said, bowing his head as if to concede the point.

"So, what's been going on here? Have the kids been behaving themselves?"

"For the most part. There have been a few...incidents, but swift repercussions to any guilty parties have severely limited those."

"What do you do to them?" She asked, picking up another one of the gewgaws, a small metal ball that began vibrating intensely in her hand.

"That depends on the crime in question. However, as a general rule, the first two sentences are more...in keeping with Hogwarts' tradition. Loss of house points and detentions or the like. It is from the third offence and onward where we have made real changes."

"Yeah? Such as?"

Rookwood's lips pulled into a thin smile.

"A dose of the Cruciatus has prevented recidivism in all but the most stubborn of students."

"I'll bet. What do the other teachers say about that?"

"The majority of them have taken the view that if they stay quiet, they may be able to protect the students from rightful punishment. Pomfrey threatened to resign."

Rookwood smiled then, his long face gaining a lupine edge.

"I simply explained to her that if she did resign, we would not replace her. It would be a shame if there was no-one to hug the children and heal their aches, but we would have no other choice. She chose to stay."

Ginny chuckled, tossing the ball from hand to hand. Strangely enough, it seemed to stop vibrating the instant it left her hand, starting again a moment after she caught it.

"I'm not surprised. Who'd you say the ringleaders of these kids are?"

"I didn't," Rookwood said, perfectly calm.

"I know. So, who are they?"

With a sigh, Rookwood rose and walked over to the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Longbottom is certainly one, as are the other boys in his year. There are several others who have not yet been identified."

"If you want," Ginny offered, glancing over at Dumbledore's portrait for a moment. "I could have a word with them. They'd stop whatever they are doing after that."

Dumbledore looked incredibly pained by her statement.

"Do you know," Rookwood said, turning back to face her. "I almost denied your request to visit. To put it bluntly, you are too uncontrolled."

"Hey, I-"

"The Dark Lord did not merely order that no student be killed. His desire is that life for them should continue as normally as possible. Think, girl. All of them have heard so much about how terrible life will become once the Dark Lord takes control. He wishes for them to see they have been lied to. Not for nought have we kept all of the same teachers, where possible, even retaining that half-giant beast. The Dark Lord wishes for the children to feel comfortable and  _happy._  He does not want a generation who are set on defying him. He does not want them to be punished too harshly if any other possible solution exists. I do not believe you capable of making sound judgements."

"I get that, but I could control-"

"Could you? If one of the children were to insult you or our lord, could you control your bloodlust and apply an appropriate response and nothing more? If they were to shout one of their ridiculous slogans in support of that boy at you, would you maintain your composure? I doubt it."

Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, forcing the sudden fury to recede.

She could understand where he was coming from. After all, she'd made a name for herself among the Death Eaters as one who didn't shy away from violence and who had a hair-trigger temper. Still, it was frustrating as anything to hear him talking to her like that.

_'He's not wrong, though. If someone were to start with me, I'd kill them. Simple as that.'_

"You've made your point," Ginny said, frowning at him.

"I hope that I have. You must understand, if too much pressure is applied to a person, even a child, they will either break or fight back. The Dark Lord does not want to risk inciting a rebellion under his new sovereignty."

"Fine! I won't teach them the lesson they need! Merlin, it'd only be helping you."

Rookwood snorted, shaking his head lightly.

"I have allowed you to come," he said, "but you are only to visit the Slytherin Common Room."

Ginny gaped at him. Granted, her main reason for wanting to visit had been to see Theo, but she had wanted to go and see her old room while she was there, for nostalgia's sake if nothing else.

"The chances of a student inciting you to violence are too high, elsewhere in the castle. There, at least, I can trust-"

"What the fuck! No, I want to-"

"Listen to me now," Rookwood hissed, leaning across the desk with the whites of his eyes showing. "You hold the Dark Lord's favour, this is true. You have a position of great esteem within our fellowship. But the Dark Lord placed me in charge of this castle. Over here, you obey  _me!_  Not only that, but he himself would tell you this is how it must be. If you wish to visit your friend, you may do so in his Common Room, or show me through your actions that I can trust you not to needlessly damage the students here!"

Seething, Ginny met his eyes.

"Fine," Ginny spat. "Headmaster. Want to lead the way?"

Rookwood sat up straight again, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure.

"Very well. I truly hope this day passes without incident. Else you may find yourself no longer seated beside  _him._ "

* * *

Theo shook in the armchair, laughing uproariously.

"Fucking hell," he said, wiping tears from his eyes, "I can't believe you do that to him. What'd he do next?"

At the table a few feet away, Pansy Parkinson coughed, looking distraught. Not that Ginny was surprised, of course. She'd made no effort to keep her voice down, and Pansy and her friend, a pretty blonde girl named Daphne something or other, kept turning to look at them.

It had taken a few minutes after Ginny had walked into the room for her to really get comfortable. She'd been quite rankled from the way Rookwood had spoken to her, and walking through Hogwarts had been a strange experience, to say the least.

Then she'd entered the Slytherin Common Room. She'd seen it before, in a memory Tom had shown her, but it was different in person, with the eerie green glow of the lake coming through the windows and throwing her off balance.

Plus, she hadn't quite been prepared for the reception she received. A fair amount of the Slytherins had looked confused and even disgruntled by her presence, but most of them had been... welcoming. More than welcoming, in fact. There'd been more than a few admiring glances aimed at her, and a pair of twins actually asked to see her Dark Mark, oohing and aahing when she acceded.

It was strange, to be so accepted by people who weren't themselves Death Eaters. She wasn't complaining about it, of course, in fact, it was rather gratifying, but it was still a strange experience.

She and Theo had been talking for close to an hour now. Blaise had joined in for a little bit before giving Theo a kiss on the cheek and departing for the library.

Ginny hadn't been prepared for the pang of loneliness that struck her at the sight of that.

For the most part, Ginny had managed to keep the conversation centred around Theo and goings-on at Hogwarts. Much as Theo was her friend and they'd been writing letters, she didn't really want to say that she'd done nothing for the past few months.

Of course, he knew about what had happened with Bellatrix. She'd owled him about it, explaining, if only in bold strokes, about their fight.

So far, he hadn't brought her up, and Ginny was only too happy with that.

"What did he do next?" Theo repeated. Ginny tore herself away from her rambling thoughts, pulling herself back into the conversation.

"Oh, he was just crying. Like he couldn't believe I'd lie to him, and like he really thought I'd meant it. I don't think he used to be this dumb, to be honest."

"You mean torturing him constantly has affected his mental state? Wow, Ginny, you might be onto something there. In fact, I think you deserve an Order of Merlin for-"

"Shut up," she laughed, tossing a pillow at him. "You know what I meant."

"Eh, I guess I do. But tell me, all this time we've been talking about what I've been up to and Draco. What about you? You haven't exactly been informative about what you're doing in your letters either."

_'I don't want to talk about that. Fucking hell, he should have noticed that I've been avoiding it. He's not an idiot!'_

"I haven't been doing much. Really just relaxing and taking it easy."

Theo rolled his eyes.

"And what does that actually mean? What do you do all day?"

"I told you, not much. I read, and-"

"Oh, bollocks. Don't tell me you've just been staying in that house all this time?"

Something hot and slimy seemed to uncoil in her belly, venom coursing through her blood like fire.

Who did he think he was to talk to her in that mocking, condescending tone?

_'He's your friend, idiot. That's how friends talk.'_

"I'm here, aren't I?" She said lightly, ignoring that sudden anger as much as possible.

"And before today? Merlin, have you left the hideout at all?"

"No. Not that it's any of your fucking business."

"I'm just trying to help," he said softly. Leaning forward, he continued, "You know, you still have a life without her. I get that you loved her, but she-"

"Shut. Up."

Her words emerged in a hiss through gritted teeth, her hand suddenly clutching her wand in her pocket, images of Theo rolling around with his clothes aflame filling her mind.

How dare he bring her up? How dare he talk about her as if he understood anything when even she didn't?

_'Fucking idiot. Coming here was a mistake.'_

"Ginny, you-"

"Shut the fuck up, right now. You don't get to talk about her! YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT HER!"

A hush fell over the Common Room. Looking around, Ginny noticed that everyone was staring at her. Most of them looked shocked and confused, but Daphne's lips were curled into a sneer.

Ginny almost did it, at the sight. The incantation for the Killing Curse reverberated through her mind, and she even began to raise her wand.

Then sanity reasserted itself in a tremendous rush.

_'Rookwood was right. Fucking hell, if he hadn't spoken to me, I'd probably have attacked her. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just control myself?'_

"I'm sorry, Theo," she whispered, suddenly incredibly ashamed.

He simply nodded, looking as if nothing had occurred, though his face was certainly paler than usual.

"You're right, though," she said. "It's not good for me to just be in that house all the time. That's part of the reason I came here today. I need to get out of there and just  _live."_

"You can do it," he said. "There's nothing stopping you, now. Go to a Quidditch match. Get yourself lunch at a restaurant. Yeah, it won't be cool on your own, but it still is something. And if you want to make friends or meet people to do stuff with, you won't be able to if you're just at home. You need to get out there."

"You're sounding like Dolohov now," she muttered.

"He is pretty smart. And pretty sane."

"I know. I know. And I'm planning on doing it. I think I'm going to go to Diagon tomorrow. Maybe see if there's anything at Flourish and Blotts."

She began to laugh, an idea occurring to her.

"And I can see my brothers' store. That should be fun."

"I'm sure it will be," Theo said with a roll of his eyes.

* * *

"What makes you think you can trust her? I know her father, and while he's not a Death Eater, he's definitely one of the people applauding them."

"Damnit, we told you already! She's been helping Neville and them since the beginning of the year! If not for her, they'd have been caught dozens of times!"

Moody sneered at Harry, continuing to pace in front of the table.

"I've actually been in the Greengrass' house," he said. "We investigated them more than once. I've seen how they live. You remember Grimmauld Place? They're cut from the same cloth."

"Far more uncouth, though," Sirius said in a nasal tone, clearly impersonating someone.

"You're being an idiot," Ron said bluntly, ignoring Sirius' byplay completely. "We told you, she's been pissed off with them since they put her under the Imperius. She's got enough reason to want to see them burn."

"And a highly convenient way of leading us into a trap!"

"Hannah saw Ginny going into the dungeons with Rookwood," Harry said, "so we know for sure she was there. Katie's working in the Leaky Cauldron, so she can keep watch, and Oliver and Lee said they'd hang around the alley to keep an eye out for her. We'll know for sure if she's there and if she's alone."

"You-"

"Neville confirmed that the Room of Requirement can give access to the castle," Sirius interrupted. "All we need is to confirm that Voldemort wants to be summoned if Harry is seen. Merlin, Mad-Eye, we could get that confirmation tomorrow!"

"The Veritaserum-" Moody began, but Hermione cut him off.

"Will only be ready in another two weeks. But we can make her talk without it. We have a chance, a perfect opportunity. Who knows when or if we'll get another one?"

Looking defeated, Moody grumbled something that sounded like a curse.

"Fine," he said. "We'll do it,  _if_  she is alone. But you all will follow my orders, understood?"

As they nodded, Harry caught Ron's eye.

His friend was smiling, a terrifying, bloodthirsty grin.

_'It's necessary. We need to do this. And maybe it'll actually be good for Ron and Hermione. Hell, it's possible.'_

"If we had more people, I wouldn't let you two come along," Moody said, nodding at Ron and Hermione. "I don't trust you when it comes to her. You're too emotionally invested."

"We'll be fine," Ron snapped. "You don't need to worry about us."

"I think I do. You're all set on doing this, fine. But you better bear in mind what led to Dumbledore's death."

* * *

"Please, lady, please-"

Ginny spun around, her wand flashing through the air and sending the disgusting creature hurtling into the wall behind him.

The nooks and crannies of Diagon Alley were filled with them, the dirty and unclean beasts.

Somehow, a fair amount of Muggleborns had managed to avoid being sent to Azkaban. Ginny wasn't quite sure how they'd done that, especially since by all accounts Umbridge was pedantic, but enough of them had.

They crowded around each other, looking more like animals than people. The stench of unwashed bodies pervaded the air, their forlorn, maddened expressions betraying them for what they really were.

The Wandless, Dolohov had called them. It was a good enough name.

She walked over to the one she had banished, dozens of them scrambling and scuttling away in her wake.

He looked dazed, a nasty gash on his head. As she approached, he shook his head and pushed himself into a sitting position.

It really was disgraceful, that something like this was allowed to be in Diagon Alley.

Not only to be there, but to dare and try to plead his case with her.

He hadn't been the first. Just in the twenty minutes she'd spent in Diagon Alley, after getting herself a tea and scones at the Leaky Cauldron, she'd already been accosted by three of them.

Hopefully, this would be the last.

_'Something like this should never have been allowed into our world. Merlin, look at it."_

His eyes widened in terror as she raised her wand, his hand flying up with a startled gasp leaking from his throat.

_'If dad had to die, something like this doesn't deserve to live.'_

She began to laugh, wondering what her father would have said if he could see her now.

_'He always loved these helpless things, and look where it got him. It's their fault I had to kill him.'_

Giggling, she twisted her wand and spoke the incantation.

The electric green light cast strange shadows over him as it collided.

"Anyone else talks to me," she said, aware of the eyes focused on her, "and I'll make them wish I was this kind. Be glad you aren't in Azkaban and leave the real witches and wizards alone. Fucking animals."

Then she turned and walked away, returning to the alley proper.

The place had certainly changed since the Dark Lord gained control. Very few shoppers were present, and most of the stores themselves were boarded up and empty.

Everyone in the street seemed to be giving her a wide berth. They shot their terrified glances at her and hurried their steps away from her, like rats fleeing an oncoming flame.

"They're all so  _weak,"_  she whispered to herself, another chuckle ripping itself free. "None of them can even bear to look at me."

Well, she was fine with that.

She whistled as she walked, a jaunty tune that perfectly matched her mood.

Honestly, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed this. Just being able to be out in public without worrying that the Aurors or Order would find her.

After a few minutes of walking, she found herself standing before Fred and George's store.

It, like so many others, was boarded up and covered in newspapers and posters.

Enough of the original purple lettering was visible for her to make out LEYS WIZARD WHE.

"It's really not such a bad idea," she muttered, "But his dare they? While I've been doing everything necessary, they open up a joke shop. How dare they?!"

She raised her wand, intent on burning the abomination to the ground, when it happened.

Something, some unknown sixth sense whispered in her ear.

Acting purely on instinct, she dived to the side, her wand whipping and surrounding her with a Shield Charm.

The Stunner went right through the air where, a moment before, she had been standing.

She hadn't even managed to turn and ascertain the source when the ground just before her exploded, throwing her several feet back.

Snarling, she jumped up, scanning the area.

All the shoppers were fleeing, the alley emptying out.

Spells began to fly toward her, impacting against her shield but not destroying it.

"Come on, come on, where are they?"

And then she saw them. Ron and Hermione were standing near the opening to one of the side streets, while Moody, Sirius, and Harry were a little bit to their right.

Screaming, a savage excitement filling her and making her blood boil like it hadn't for months, Ginny ran toward them.

Almost immediately, Moody jumped forward and yelled.

Her shield vanished, gone as if it was never there.

Ginny leapt to the side, twisting and throwing herself into Apparition as she did so.

Nothing happened. Shocked, she began to run away from them down the alley, zigzagging and tossing curses behind her without even bothering to aim.

Her wand spun around like a dowsing rod, Explosive Hexes, Killing Curses, and fire shooting from its tip with no rest.

Spells began to fly at her from the side street ahead. Two shadowy figures came running out of it, her bleary eyes taking a few seconds to register them as Tonks and Shacklebolt.

There were too many of them. She was completely outnumbered, and they'd taken her by surprise and blocked Apparition.

She heard Moody shouting something and an instant later something crashed into her, tossing her into the air like a rag doll.

She landed roughly on the cobbled street, automatically curling into a ball and rolling over, managing to avoid an oncoming spell by less than an inch.

Bits of stone rained down on her as the area around her was pounded with spells.

_'Fiendfyre. That's my only option.'_

She rolled and pushed herself to her feet, a Cutting Curse hitting her and opening a gash in her side.

Screaming, she spun around and began the incantation.

And saw the Stunning Spell flying toward her, far too quick for her to cast another Shield Charm or even to dodge.

Everything went black.


	41. Sixth year, part two

Year Six, Part Two

As suddenly as she had passed out, Ginny awoke.

There was no period of confusion, no mental stutter as she tried to figure out what had happened.

The adrenaline thrumming through her must have sped her mind up, because she realized immediately what the situation was.

 _'They got me,'_ she thought, keeping her eyes closed and body slumped.  _'They've taken me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, fuck!'  
_

It felt like she was in an armchair. Her hands and legs were definitely tied tightly down, and she was in a sitting position.

Around her, she could hear what seemed to be an argument taking place.

"I don't want the two of you in here! We need to actually get answers, not just-"

"FUCK THAT!"

_'Was that Ron?'_

"You know what she's done to my family," her brother continued, talking so quickly and heatedly she could barely make out individual words, "I'm fucking staying, and you can't make me do otherwise!"

"Can't I?" Moody asked, his voice dangerous.

Ginny fought off the urge to cackle madly.

Here she was, conscious for less than two minutes, and she'd already found cracks in their group.

But, funny as it was, Ron's words stung.

If he hadn't befriended Potter, none of her family would have been stupid enough to join the Order. It was his fault she'd had to kill them.

_'Who does he think he is, talking about me like that?'_

"Ron, mate, Moody has a good point."

Her blood boiled at the sound of Potter, her hands almost curling into fists.

Somehow, she managed to show no outward sign of her fury, just continuing to sit there like a lump.

"How about this," Potter continued. "You stay, but if we think it looks like you're losing control, you leave. Deal?"

"Fine, but-"

Someone whispered something harshly, too low and quick for her to make it out.

Whatever it was, it shut Ron up, making silence fall on them.

 _'Ok,'_ she thought, forcing her panic to recede.  _'Ok. They've got me. We're probably in their hideout in Wales. No-one knows where I am. Bella will still come, she'll find me somehow, she'll-'_

But Bella had left.

Wherever Bellatrix was, Ginny could safely assume that she didn't know that Ginny had been captured. Hell, even if she did, she probably wouldn't care.

The Dark Lord was out of the country, and wouldn't want to be disturbed.

There was no-one coming to rescue her. She was entirely alone.

She almost sobbed at the realization, before cold fury seeped through her.

_'I'll kill them all. Fuck, I'll make them wish I killed them!'_

_'You won't get anywhere if you don't think it through. Think! There's at least four of them. I don't know anything about the setup of the room, of this whole place. I'll need to make it up as I go.'_

She was just deciding to open her eyes when Hermione spoke, her words making Ginny's panic come to the fore again.

"The Veritaserum should be working by now. Let's wake her up."

_'They gave me Veritaserum? Fuck, fuck!'_

But...Bellatrix had made Ginny take Veritaserum once just so she knew what it felt like. She could clearly remember the strange sensation she'd experienced. There'd been no fear then, no worry.

It had felt similar to the Imperius, in that everything had seemed to just be perfectly  _right._

She didn't feel anything like that now.

"Rennervate!"

A jolt ran through her, her eyes flying open immediately.

Finally, she saw the place where she was being kept.

She appeared to be in a living room of some sort. As she'd thought, she was seated in an armchair. Tightly wrapped cords kept her arms and legs in place.

It looked reminiscent of Grimmauld Place; the same style of carpet adorned the floor, and she recognized one or two of the portraits.

What pulled her attention, however, was not the decoration.

No, it was the five people standing in various positions around the room.

All of them were staring at her, their wands clutched tightly in their hands.

Moody looked much as he usually did, his face twisted and furious. His normal was facing directly at her, while his magical one was rolled up to the back of his head.

Hermione and Ron were standing beside him. She looked almost like a statue, her face entirely expressionless. Ron, though…Ginny had never seen him like this. His face was contorted with tears gleaming in his eyes. His ears were bright red, his shoulders shaking.

Ginny almost laughed at the sight.

She would have, if she didn't want to kill him so badly right then.

Potter was standing next to them, his face drawing her eyes. His chin was set, his face harrowed.

She barely even noticed Shacklebolt and Black, so focused was her attention on Potter.

"You bitch!"

Something slapped into her, smashing her head into the back of the chair and leaving her ears ringing with dots dancing before her eyes.

Dimly, she could hear Moody shouting at Ron, berating him for attacking her.

"You think that will work?" She asked softly, shaking her head and forcing the pain away. "You think that you'll get me to tell you anything?"

Why would they need to torture her, anyway? If they'd used Veritaserum, she'd be spilling everything with just a question.

Then it clicked.

She opened her eyes again and sneered, staring directly at her worthless blood-traitor brother.

"You knew I was awake. You didn't actually give me Veritaserum, you just wanted to make me think that you had. Idiots. You're all such-"

"You're going to tell us what we want to know," Moody interrupted. "The only question is whether you'll make it easy on yourself."

Ginny couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, cackling madly at their confused faces.

"You-you think you scare me," she managed, "you think-"

And she was off again, shaking and writhing against her bonds and laughing as heartily as she ever had.

"You seem in good spirits for someone tied up, outnumbered, and kept captive."

Her laughter cut off as if Sirius had turned off a tap with his remark.

"You-if you let me go, I'll let you die. I'll kill all of you, I swear-LET ME GO! WORTHLESS BLOOD TRAITOR FUCKS! LET ME GO, LET ME GO, LET ME GO, LET ME GO!"

Moving as quick as thought, Sirius stepped forward, his hand shooting back and forth across her face.

He stepped away, leaving her cheeks burning from the slaps and immediately, Moody slashed his wand through the air.

Terrible pain consumed her, a feeling as if her blood had been transfigured into petrol and set alight.

She was screaming, arching her back and straining against her bonds, the ropes cutting into her arms and legs and adding to the orchestra of torment.

"Kingsley," Moody snapped, his voice barely recognisable to her as the surcease from pain flooded her, "Now!"

Shacklebolt moved toward her, his wand rising even as he gripped her chin and forced it up, locking eyes with her.

She realized what he was about to do in the instant before he incanted, an icy calm and trained instincts taking over.

_'So you want to play with my mind?'_

"Legilimens!"

Immediately, she emptied her mind, all thoughts and emotions vanishing.

She could sense what he was trying to get, in rough strokes, at least. Memories of the Dark Lord kept trying to rise.

_'So you want to see what I know?'_

A chuckle escaped her as she reached into the recesses of her brain. She didn't allow him to take over, no.

She chose which memories he would see.

First, she called on what she had done at the Burrow a few months previously, allowing the scene of her brother and father's deaths to play out.

Then, with his tugging growing more and more insistent, she pulled up flashes of memories; memories of her and Bellatrix experimenting on the muggles they'd kidnapped for that purpose, images of Aurors and Order members alike dying before her wand.

His will pressed harder on her, the memories she was trying to conjure up flickering and almost failing, snatches of conversation with the other Death Eaters pulling themselves in.

Gritting her teeth, she brought all her mental fortitude to bear, concentrating with everything she had on remembering what she had done to the Higgs'.

She let their screams ring in her ears, grinning as she dwelled on the exquisite agony she'd wrought upon them.

Shacklebolt flinched back from her, his face pale and tight.

"You people," she laughed, "you think that you know how to inflict pain. You know  _nothing!_ I'll keep you alive for months! You'll beg me to kill you!"

"Nothing," Shacklebolt muttered, "she's an Occlumens. Nothing but...memories of her torturing and killing people."

"You're not going to get anything out of me," she said, laughter still bubbling up. "Unlike you all, I'm not a traitor! Go on, try! Whatever you do to me, I've done far worse! You can't get me to talk!"

She began to shake with mirth again, blood dripping down her arms and legs where the ropes had cut into her.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" She shrieked, Potter's stupid living face suddenly filling her with as immense rage as ever she had felt. "YOU FUCKING HALF-BLOOD ASSHOLE, IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT ME TO DIE IN THE CHAMBER!"

Potter staggered back as if punched, his face going white.

Sirius slapped her again, her head rocking with his hand's motion.

"Nothing you've done is anyone's fault but your own."

"It's his," she snarled, jerking her head toward her worthless brother. "If he hadn't befriended  _him_ …blood-traitor! You had to pull our family even further down! You and your Mudblood whore!"

Ron was crying, tears running down his splotchy cheeks.

"They'd have done anything for you," he blubbered. "Mum and Dad-we all would have! We'd have done anything to help you!"

"You will. You'll die for me. You'll all die. When-when I've killed the rest of you, when I'm the only Weasley left, then our family will mean something!"

Ron's face twisted with furious anguish, his wand flying up.

"Stop it!"

At Moody's growl, he paused, his eyes twitching.

"So that's how it is," Ginny said. "You're his dog. You can't even stand up for yourself. You're a useless, worthless, slimy little-"

Her voice died as Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out her wand.

"Do you remember when mum and dad got this for you?" He asked, a tremor in his thick voice. "They were-they were so proud."

She couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch in mounting terror as he seized her wand in both hands and snapped it.

She screamed, howling her pain to the uncaring room as she once again strained at her bonds, with the sound of the wood snapping reverberating through her entire being.

Her wand. He'd snapped her wand.

Eleven and a quarter inches, yew and dragon heartstring.

Yew, just like the Dark Lord's.

And he'd snapped it.

With a horrific, triumphant laugh, Ron threw the pieces at her, one of them bouncing off of her forehead.

A reddish-black haze stole over her vision, furious heartbreak blotting out all thought.

She was screaming, screeching out mingled curses and threats and useless incantations.

Someone slapped her again, making her bite her tongue as her head snapped back.

"I'm going to make you  _eat_ your Mudblood," she cried, shaking her hair from her eyes and focusing on him again. "I'll-I'm going to invent new things just to do them to you! You fucking useless bastard-"

"Shut it," Moody said, jabbing his wand at her.

Immediately, her mouth clamped shut, ignoring all her orders to speak.

"Listen to me. You claim to have seen people tortured-"

"She has," Shacklebolt muttered. "I've never seen anything like that, she's as bad as the Lestranges."

"Then you know that you'll break eventually. You won't be able to keep strong forever. You'll break, and you'll tell us exactly what we want to know. So, do yourself a favour and save yourself the pain. Here's your last chance to answer some questions without being forced to."

He jabbed his wand again, and the pressure around her mouth vanished.

Ginny spat at his feet, blood from her bit tongue mixing in and giving her spittle a pinkish hue.

"I'll die before I say anything. I was ready to die for him when I was eleven years old.  _That,_ at least, hasn't changed."

"You're just making this harder on yourself," Moody sighed, pushing himself up from the sofa and raising his wand again.

Ginny shocked herself by laughing.

"You're making it all harder on yourselves," she cackled. "If you want to survive, you should let me go now. And then run as far away as your cowardly legs can take you. When I get out of here-I'm going to kill you all. I'll make you kill each other. I'll flay you, I'll break you-I'LL MAKE YOU WISH I KILLED YOU!"

"You're not fucking getting out of here, can't you-"

"Shut up, Weasley," Moody growled at her brother, "Don't interact-"

"How could you?" Ron spat, ignoring Moody completely and taking a step forward, Hermione remaining in the same place with the same blank face. "How the fuck could you do it? How? HOW?!"

"It was easy. They were disgusting blood-traitor abominations, just having the same name as them was sickening! I laughed when I killed dad, I laughed! I'm going to break every bone in your body, I'll make you kill your Mudblood, I'll-"

Ron's face had gone slack and pale when she spoke about her family. Now, it was glowing a bright red.

His eyes bulging, he raised his wand.

"CRUCIO!"

She screamed again, that wonderful, horrific torment consuming her.

Dimly, she was aware of spasming in the chair, of her head colliding over and over again with the headrest, of the bonds on her arms cutting deeper into the skin.

And then it was over.

Still shaking, she looked up, barely noticing Moody shouting at her brother and gesticulating wildly.

"You can't even do that properly," she hissed, her voice feeling garbled. "Merlin, I'm going to enjoy putting you out of your misery."

Ron raised his wand again and Moody shoved him roughly.

"Go join Tonks and keep watch!"

Ron slashed his wand through the air and something shot toward her, smashing her in the face and breaking her nose.

Ron's wand flew from his wand toward Moody. An instant later, a Stunner crashed into him, dropping him boneless to the floor.

"Get him out of here," Moody snapped, gesturing to her brother's unconscious form. "Before he does something even more stupid."

Hermione nodded and raised her wand to levitate Ron away.

"Kingsley," Sirius said with a note of urgency, "now."

Again, Shacklebolt approached her and seized her chin, the blood dripping from her nose immediately making speckles on his skin.

"Legilimens!"

As before, his eyes swallowed her, her memories beginning to rise.

But she was too out-of-sorts to fight him off and clear her mind, her thoughts too subsumed by pain and rage to banish.

She saw herself being woken up after her fight with Bellatrix, saw Yaxley telling her how the Dark Lord had gone and wanted only to be disturbed if Potter was found.

She saw herself talking to Dolohov, debating what their lord was after and how quick it would take him to get back once they found Potter.

_'No, no, no, he's winning, he's winning! I need to do something!'_

Without thinking of it, without giving him the chance to see what she would do, she acted.

With a growled curse, she smashed her head forward as far as she could go, crashing right into his face.

She heard a crunch as her forehead knocked into his nose, heard his yelp.

"FUCK OFF! ALL OF YOU, LET ME GO! LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO!"

"Stupefy!"

Kingsley's spell hit her and she fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

Bellatrix grinned at the looming house, tugging absently on the leash she held.

Behind her, the Muggle girl stumbled soundlessly, Bellatrix's silencing charm keeping her no doubt pathetic cries for mercy from being heard.

After two months, she'd finally returned.

It had been difficult to make the decision to do so. Wonderful as her plan was, it felt too much like crawling back, especially since she doubted Ginny would admit she was wrong and beg forgiveness.

Still, she had very little choice. She'd managed to stay away for two months, keeping herself busy and simply living alone in the wilderness, but she couldn't stay away forever.

The Dark Lord would happily allow her the time for herself, but sooner or later he would want her to do something, and if she wanted him to see how dedicated she was, she needed to be there for that.

Even putting aside the Dark Lord, if such a thing were possible, there was still Ginny to look forward to.

During her time away, Bellatrix had come to the conclusion that she wanted her baby. She did. Even if it meant that she had to be careful with how she spoke, even if she had to avoid difficult topics until her baby was strong enough to deal with them.

She wanted her baby, and Bellatrix always got what she wanted.

The problem, of course, remained. Ginny might think that something in their relationship had changed. She might even be so deranged as to believe she was in charge now.

And she might want an apology, or something equally absurd and likewise unlikely.

To that end, Bellatrix had decided on a plan of action. She would return to her baby and would give her a nice present. If Ginny chose to view that as an apology, well, that could work. Then, before Ginny had time to take control, Bellatrix would show her that nothing had changed. She would be gentler than she had in the past, obviously, and would be careful not to push at her baby too much, but she would make sure she knew that nothing had changed.

She tugged on the leash again, sighing and turning around to view her new pet a moment later.

It was a sixteen-year-old Muggle girl, a pretty enough thing with wonderful blond hair and bright blue eyes. Bellatrix had stumbled upon her a few days previously when she'd broken into their home.

She'd broken the girls' parents too, but they were just worthless muggles, with no redeeming features.

The girl, though, was pretty. And so Bellatrix had decided to keep her, to use her as appeasement for her baby.

The leash was connected to a necklace tied tight around the girl's throat. She'd placed a rather brilliant charm on it too if she said so herself. Whenever she was forced to pull on it, the girl experienced a painful electric shock.

She was wearing nothing else.

"Keep up," she hissed, "or else."

Tears cascaded down the Muggle's face, but she nodded.

"And now," Bellatrix mused, "I come home."

She pushed the door open and, with another tug on the leash, entered the room.

"I'm back," she called, barely able to keep her excitement down.

Strange, that she should feel so excited. She usually only felt this way before a battle.

Well, it might turn out to be a battle after all. If Ginny still thought she was better than her, Bellatrix would have no choice but to teach her otherwise.

"Cooee. Is anyone heeeere?"

Her voice echoed through the safehouse as if it were a tomb.

Unease started to grow in her. Grimly, she drew her wand.

"Bellatrix? Is that you?"

Dolohov stepped out of the reading room, his face far more drawn than usual, his wand in his hand.

He gaped at the sight of her, his confused eyes darting between her and her gift restlessly.

"Did you have anything to do with it?" He asked, raising his wand. "Fucking hell, Bellatrix, did you-"

"If you keep your wand pointed at me, I'm going to pierce your heart with it. Put it away and stop babbling, idiot."

Dolohov didn't listen. His knuckles were white, his eyes narrowed.

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"Anything to do with what? Put your wand down, Dolohov, or I swear you'll regret it. And before you carry on with your nonsense, tell me. Is Ginny around? I have a gift for her."

She tugged sharply on the leash, making the Muggle fall over.

He lowered it suddenly, a shocked expression flickering across his face for a moment.

"You don't know," he whispered. "You really don't know. You just happened to come tonight-what are the chances?"

That terrible feeling continued to grow inside her, like icy fingers were gripping her heart and would, at any moment, squeeze tightly.

"What don't I know?"

He just continued to stare, shaking his head. That icy hand began to squeeze and a horrific certainty filled her mind.

"Where's Ginny? Where is she? DOLOHOV, WHERE IS SHE?!"

"Gone," he said. "The Order...they got her in Diagon Alley today. Witnesses saw Moody and that Shacklebolt, and-"

Bellatrix spun, too furious to think, needing, more than anything, to vent her sudden wrath.

Screeching, she slashed her wand at the Muggle, not even aware of what she was casting.

The girl exploded in a spray of blood and viscera, splattering Bellatrix's face and robes along with the rest of the room.

"Where are they? Where are they?!"

"We don't know. Probably in that hideout of theirs in Wales, the one under the Fidelius."

Furious, she screamed again, waving her wand and throwing the Muggle's corpse against the wall.

"What did the Dark Lord say?"

"Damnit, Bella, you've been gone for so long... The Dark Lord's out of the country."

She twisted around so quickly her back clicked.

She must have looked terrifying, because Dolohov took a step back, his hand twitching in an abortive movement, as if he had been about to raise his wand before thinking better of it.

"He left a few days after you and Ginny had that fight. He said-"

"We need to summon him," she said, pulling her sleeve back. "Why the fuck haven't you? I'm-"

"NO!"

Her finger hovered an inch away from the Mark, tantalisingly close.

"Why not?"

"He said not to," Dolohov said hurriedly, "Not unless we've got Potter's location. He said no matter what, we aren't to call him for anything else."

"But-"

" _Nothing!_  He was very, very clear, Bella. If you call him for anything else…"

Dolohov trailed off, shaking his head.

"We have to do something," she cried, "I won't leave her with them. We need to-you said there were witnesses, I can-"

"They have a safe house with a Fidelius Charm on it. You can torture as many people as you like, it won't change that. There's nothing we can do, not unless their Secret Keeper changes sides. Bella-"

She spun again, jerking her wand toward the Muggle's corpse.

Huge, hungry black flames leapt over it, consuming it in an instant, not even leashing a spot of ash behind.

But her rage was not quenched.

With another shriek, Bellatrix thumped her hand into the wall as hard as she could.

She pulled back and punched again and again, feeling as if she, as the Muggle had, was going to explode.

Her knuckles were bleeding, her thumb twisted and out of place.

The pain cut through her terrible rage, allowing her to think clearly again.

"There's nothing I can do," she whispered, her voice a hoarse mess.

She stared at the door, wanting nothing more than to march out and loose Fiendfyre on this whole ungrateful, miserable country. She would kill them all, every last witch and wizard who had been there in Diagon Alley and had allowed them to take her baby.

"She's a resourceful girl," Dolohov said. "Damn near brilliant. She'll make it out. We just need to be here for her when she does. She'll make it out, Bella."

Of course, she would, Bellatrix had no doubt of that.

But they would torture her. Even now, they probably were trying to get information out of her baby.

No-one got to do that to Ginny, no-one but her.

* * *

The soft sound of the door closing broke through the strange liminal space Ginny was inhabiting.

She thought it had been several hours since she'd been stunned. The pains throughout her body had woken her up a few times. Her arms and legs burned where the cords were tied; every time she moved them, the cords bit deeper into her skin.

She looked like a mess, she knew that. Her face was covered in dried blood, as were her hands and feet.

Each time that she woke, she began to drift between rage and fear.

She'd get them all back for this. Somehow, she'd get out, and she'd make them pay. She'd keep them alive for years, making every one of their waking moments feel like a lifetime of suffering.

By the time she was done, they'd regret ever being born.

But that all depended on her getting out. She needed to escape, to find a way to leave this place. She was outnumbered and tied up, kept in some place she didn't know the location of, and nobody was coming to rescue her.

Unless...unless someone had seen them kidnapping her, and had witnessed Potter's presence.

If they had, maybe someone would summon the Dark Lord. They didn't know Potter's location, true, but she could still hope…

Hell, she could summon the Dark Lord herself. She couldn't quite be sure that it would work through the Fidelius, but it was possible.

Of course, she'd need her hand free for that. Try as she might, and she had, she just couldn't reach the Mark with her chin. Besides, she was reasonably certain it would only work if she used her hand.

Still, she could hope that the chance would come, or that someone else would have summoned him.

She could still hope, much as it felt like she was grasping at straws.

The problem, she knew, was that they wouldn't give her a chance to escape. She'd tried wiggling her hands, using the blood the ropes brought to the surface as a lubricant to try and wrench her arms free.

It had led to nothing. The only chance she had would be if they somehow screwed up badly enough that she could break free of her bonds. Even then, she'd be unarmed, but that way she'd at least have a chance.

But now, the door was closing.

She cracked a stiff eyelid, the light burning against her retina.

The Mudblood was standing there, waving her wand around the room.

_'Privacy charms. Looks like the Mudblood's come to play.'_

Granger walked until she was only a few feet from Ginny. She stopped then, cocking her head to one side and fixing Ginny with a cold, analysing stare.

It began to make Ginny quite uncomfortable, like she was a bug in a specimen jar.

"Here to get revenge for your parents?" Ginny finally asked, breaking the silence. "You should thank me for what I did."

Granger just continued to stare, not even blinking.

"I did you a favour. I severed your ties to the Muggle world. Now, you could-"

"Crucio."

Agony consumed her. It was far worse than Ron's pitiful attempt at the curse had been. She could feel it in every inch, that terrible burning,  _breaking_  feeling.

She was screaming and shaking, her torso and head wiggling uselessly like a fish in a net.

And then it was over.

Ginny caught her breath, forcing, by sheer willpower, her shaking to subside.

"Why don't you try something I don't like in bed?" She spat.

Still entirely impassive, the Mudblood raised her wand again.

"Crucio!"

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as she tried, and failed, to trap the scream.

She could barely think through the pain. All she knew was the torture, the torture and an undeniable wish for it to end, for it to stop.

When it did, it took her longer to calm down. Tears were flooding down her face, blood leaking out of her mouth.

"Y-you fucking b-bitch," she stuttered, unable to keep her voice straight with the aftershocks of hellish torment still running through her. "Do you think I'll b-beg? I'm not your fucking Muggle parents!"

"Crucio!"

It was worse, now. The pain was clearer, any mental blocks she'd erected to distance herself from the situation long eroded.

This was agony the likes of which she had never experienced, agony which even Bellatrix had never wrought upon her.

Dimly, she was aware of her bladder releasing its contents as the pain drove all her ability to control herself from her mind.

It took a while for her to realize when the curse had ended. Her mind seemed hazy, her thoughts wispy things that she couldn't quite grasp.

_'If she keeps this up much longer, I'll end up like the Longbottoms.'_

It was enough to make her laugh, really. After everything she'd been through, she was being broken by her brother's Mudblood whore.

Granger frowned at the sound of her mirth, the first expression to cross her dirty face since they'd started.

And suddenly, Ginny's fury returned in an almost overwhelming rush.

She strained at her bonds again, feeling the slickness of her bloody arms against them.

The Mudblood stepped back hurriedly, moving just out of reach of Ginny's teeth.

How dare this worthless creature even think to raise her wand against her?

"I'm not going to kill you," she cackled, savage joy filling her even as her tears turned Granger into a kaleidoscope. "I'm going to k-keep you, you're not too ugly, B-Bellatrix and I will pl-play with you whenever-I'm going to break you, please, I'll kill you, just let me go, let me go, please let me go!"

Granger's frown disappeared, the corners of her lips rising for an instant.

"Crucio!"

Something seemed to snap in Ginny's mind.

Thought fled, all knowledge and memories vanishing.

She was hanging in a glittering pitch-black place, stars surrounding her like diamonds poured onto a dark velvet sheet.

Pain suffused her. It was her, and she was pain. She was nothing, nothing but an infinitesimal speck screaming into the endless void of torment.

For how much time she hung like that, spinning through the unknowable pain, she didn't know.

An eternity passed, and then gleaming light stabbed into her eyes.

Slowly, she swam back into herself, her identity reasserting.

She  _was._

Everything hurt, her whole body shrieking. She was still shaking and sobbing, letting out whimpering cries.

_'How long did she hold the curse for? She almost-she almost broke me.'_

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, the realization of what had just almost happened to her chilling her to the bone and overshadowing even the pain for a moment.

She'd felt her mind slipping away from her. Fucking hell, she had felt her sense of  _self_  disappearing, felt her capacity to think and  _be_ vanishing in a haze of agony.

Suddenly, Granger seemed far more terrifying than she had up until then.

She'd almost cast Ginny into insanity, almost ruined her as certainly as a Dementor's kiss would have.

_'This can't be happening, fucking hell, oh fuck, she's going to do that to me! She's going to break me, and there's nothing I can do about it!'_

The Mudblood was still staring at her, but now she was smiling in cold satisfaction.

"I cannot tell you how much I hate you," she whispered. "Not just for what you did to my parents. But for turning me into someone who enjoys this. I've been looking forward to this for so long... I used to be happy!"

She slashed her wand like a knife, and the sleeve fell away from Ginny's left arm, a long, thick cut opening where it had been severed near the shoulder.

Granger's attention moved from Ginny's face to her arm, a strange, viciously hungry smile appearing.

"I understand that you all need to prove yourselves before you can get one of these. Is that what my parents were? Just a way for you to prove your loyalty?"

Ginny shook her head, those despicably weak cries still escaping her.

"Fu-fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck-NO! NO, PLEASE-"

Granger lowered her wand, her eyes burning.

"Is that what my parents were?" She repeated.

"No. No. That's what he was, that's what Percy was. Please, no more, don't-"

She was babbling, cringing and hating herself for her weakness even as the words spilled from her mouth.

She couldn't let Granger curse her again. If she put her under the Cruciatus even just one more time, if she held it just a bit longer than she had…

Her mind gibbered at the very thought.

Granger whipped her wand again, making something slice deep into Ginny's cheek.

Blood shot out in a hot spray, splattering across the Mudblood's face.

"Shut up. Unless you're answering my questions, you're going to shut up. Do you understand?"

_'Just go along with it. Give her whatever she wants, she's insane, just go with it! You won't be worth anything to anyone if she ruins your mind. Wait for an opening and play the coward.'  
_

Ginny nodded frantically, her mouth shutting over an aborted shriek.

A cold, dark corner of her mind opened up, images of Granger writhing in the worst pain Ginny could imagine. She'd make the Mudblood beg for what she'd put Ginny through.

But she could only do that if she survived long enough.

She could only do that if Granger didn't destroy her mind first.

She had no choice. Weak and despicable though it was, she'd have to give in, she'd have to tell the Mudblood what she wanted.

_'As long as she's not asking about his plans. If she's asking about the past, it's fine, I have to do it, I have to protect my fucking mind!'_

"So why did you kill them? Why my parents? WHY DID YOU-"

Granger broke off and rubbed at her eyes, her chest heaving as she took a deep breath.

"Why did you kill them?"

"I-we-I wanted to hurt Potter. I knew if we went after his friends it'd hurt him. I wanted to hurt him and-and-and maybe make you abandon him."

Granger just stood there, her face impassive once more.

"What you did-," she finally said, "You're a monster. You have no idea what you put me through. You took something from me...I'm going to show you what it feels like."

Ginny laughed again, unable to help it.

"You-you can't. I killed my family. There's just mum and Ron and the twins, and if I get out of here, I'll kill them too. You can't get me. You can kill me-"

"And I will," Granger said, Ginny's blood turning to ice at the calmly stated promise. "But first…"

She bent over, stretching out a finger and running it along Ginny's skin just outside the outline of the Dark Mark.

"I wonder how much this means to you. Let's find out."

_'What?! What's she-'_

And then she felt it. A horrific, terribly agonizing slicing sensation on her arm, only a few inches above the Mark.

Ginny began to scream again as she realized what was happening, watching with unbelieving eyes as the Mudblood got to work.

She held her wand just above Ginny's skin. The tip was glowing a blindingly bright blackish-red.

She began to move it along Ginny's arm.

And wherever the wand was aimed, a gash appeared in Ginny's skin.

It was incredibly deep; she would have been able to tell that much just from the colour of the blood that began to emerge.

It didn't just cut her arm. No, it  _ruined_ it, simultaneously slicing and burning, the topmost layer of skin bubbling up and melting. Less than a second had passed and already the area of skin in line with the Mudblood's wand looked more like a mangled, overcooked lump of meat than anything else.

With dawning horror, she realized what the Mudblood was doing.

She was going to cut  _his_ Mark out of her. She was going to remove it.

And the pain was unbearable. Oh, it was nothing compared to repeated applications of the Cruciatus, but it was enough to drive her into mindless action.

She began to squirm again, shaking and writhing in her seat.

The bonds around her wrist kept her lower arm roughly in place, but she moved enough to throw Granger's aim off.

"STOP! STOP, STOP, PLEASE-"

Growling, Granger bent closer and dug her fingers deep into Ginny's arm.

Ginny shrieked, her voice growing hoarse at her non-stop screaming.

She could feel the Mudblood's fingers inside her, as she tried to rip out the hunk of flesh on which the Dark Mark stood.

And then she noticed it, her mind miraculously clearing enough for a plan to present itself.

The Mudblood's head was only a few inches from hers.

Without giving herself a chance to think about it, Ginny acted.

Slamming her head forward, she clamped her teeth shut around the Mudblood bitch's ear.

The salty tang of fresh blood filled her throat, her teeth grinding against each other through cartilage.

The Mudblood reacted immediately. Screeching, her wand spun around, a Blasting Hex spitting from the tip.

Ginny flew across the room, her ribs cracking.

Bits of wood and metal shattered and flew as she crashed into the wall, an enormous bang sounding.

Granger's severed ear fell from her mouth in a torrent of blood.

Dazed, she lay there for a moment, barely even noticing that she was no longer sitting.

Then it hit her.

The chair had broken in the crash. There were pieces of wood still tied to her arms and legs, but she was free.

She jumped to her feet, ignoring the terrible burning feeling from her arm.

She fell over almost instantly, her legs tingling like crazy.

An electric green curse shot over her head, strange bluish-green flames erupting where it hit the wall.

_'TRY TO KILL ME?!'_

Somehow, she pulled herself to her feet, and with a bloodthirsty howl jumped and launched herself instantly toward the Mudblood.

Granger shrieked, jabbing her wand toward Ginny with a terrified, furious expression.

Something sliced deep into her side, but Ginny was already in motion.

She crashed into the Mudblood, bowling them both over.

Granger was cursing and trying to raise her wand, but Ginny was faster.

Blood poured down her arm, the chunk of flesh where the Dark Mark stood shaking and almost falling out.

She managed to roll out of the way of Granger's hastily cast curse, a tongue of flame licking the floor where she had been a moment earlier.

Her lips peeled back in a savage grin as she dived forward again, her hands outstretched for Granger's throat.

Twisting, Granger moved out of the way and scrambled to her feet, incanting even before she was standing.

"Avada-"

Ginny punched the Mudblood as hard as she could in the face.

A Killing Curse shot right past her, coming so close to Ginny's leg that she felt the air of its passage.

But she was too far gone to think about such things. Something had seized control of her, a bloody-minded, prehistoric part of her brain, focused on nothing but her survival in this mad fight.

Granger was clearly disoriented from the punch. She was blinking furiously and trying to back away, her wand shaking so badly Ginny was sure that if she even managed a spell it would miss.

Ginny seized her hair and, with a feral screech, dropped to her knees and pulled the Mudblood down, slamming the bitch's head into the ground.

She raised her head again and slammed it, raised it and slammed it.

Granger's feet drummed against the floor, and Ginny did it again. And again.

Then, cackling, she picked the Mudblood's wand off the floor and stood, nearly falling over.

Her thoughts were coming sluggishly, everything she saw seeming to be tinged with grey.

 _'Lost too much blood,'_ she thought fuzzily.  _'I need to go before I collapse.'_

"I'm taking you with me," she cackled, looking down at Granger's unmoving form. "You had better not be dead. Fuck, that hurts."

Her arm was a mess, a huge piece of flesh looking like it would fall out at any moment.

She stared at it for a moment in horrified shock.

The Mudblood had cut along the Mark itself. Ginny couldn't possibly trust that it still would work to summon the Dark Lord, not with it looking like it had been stuck into a grinder.

She could feel blood soaking into her clothes from dozens of small wounds. More than that, the cut in her side felt almost as bad as what Bellatrix had done to her a few months previously.

Right then, Ginny didn't care. She felt like raising her arms to the sky and roaring in bestial triumph, like declaring her supremacy to the world at large.

She wanted, in fact, to stalk through the rest of this house and  _end_ all of those who'd thought to capture and torture her.

_'If I do that, I'll just pass out and die. I need to go. Now. I need to fucking go!'_

"I'd better not splinch myself. Fuck, you'd better not be dead. I'm going to destroy you for this."

Raising her wand, she cast the most powerful Explosive Curse she could.

A large section of the wall shattered, disintegrating from the force of her spell and blowing outwards.

A wave of cool, crisp air blew in. Ginny couldn't think of anything that had felt so good before.

"Let's go. Let's go. Chances are her silencing charms aren't that good. They probably heard something."

She gave up on dragging the Mudblood outside after her first attempt made dark spots appear before her eyes.

Cursing, she levitated the bitch, pushing her outside and limping, followed her.

Then, with a giggle she spun, grabbing Granger by the shoulder and pulling the bitch along with her into Apparition.

* * *

"We need to go after her, we need to-"

"I told you from the beginning," Moody spat, interrupting Ron's half-begging, half-commanding speech. "I said this was a bad idea. You couldn't keep your anger in check. And neither could she, and now-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING PIN THIS ON HERMIONE!"

"If she'd just-"

"This is helping no-one," Sirius cried, slamming his fist on the table. "We need to work out what the fuck we're doing! We don't have much time before they start on Hermione, so-"

"We can't go after her," Moody said. "One, we don't know where their hideout is. Two, we don't know if she's even there. Three, we don't have enough people. Going to rescue her isn't an option."

"We can't just leave her! We can't, you-"

Harry lowered his head, shutting their voices out and focusing on his confused, frantic thoughts.

God, who'd have thought that everything would go so badly?

They'd only discovered what had happened less than an hour previously. As far as they could tell, at some point the previous night, Hermione had gone into Ginny's room, and then…

Well, they had no idea what had happened next. There was clear evidence of a fight having taken place, but no clue as to how it had started or what had actually gone on in there.

All they could be certain of was that Hermione and Ginny had vanished.

And that it was incredibly unlikely for Hermione to have set Ginny free.

Privately, Harry thought Moody was right. Hermione must have gone in to torture Ginny, to punish her for what she'd done to Hermione's parents.

Something must have gone wrong. If they'd left, there was no way it was with Hermione having chosen to do so.

And now, he had a hellishly difficult decision to make. He knew what to do, the idea having come to him in an icy flash.

But could he do it? Could he, in effect, abandon Hermione?

He had to. It wasn't like he was signing her death warrant. He was just...pushing off rescuing her until later.

With tears in his eyes, he pushed himself to his feet and walked forward, interrupting their argument.

"Kingsley," he said, "you're certain that they'll summon Voldemort if they know where I am?"

Kingsley nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"It was very clear from her memories. Both Dolohov and Yaxley told her so. But what-"

"Hermione has her DA coin with her," he said, not meeting Ron's eyes. "I tried to summon it twice. She has it. And if they have her, they have it. I'm going to send a message on it, telling all our allies to come to Hogwarts."

"Harry," Ron said desperately, "they could kill her, they could-"

"I know. But we don't have any other choice. This way...maybe they'll be too distracted to focus on her. It's time to finish this."

Grimly, Moody nodded.

"He's right," Sirius said, leaning over to Ron and clasping his shoulder. "He's right."

Ron's face was contorted with utter anguish, making him look more like a wounded animal than a person.

Slowly, looking like he would be sick, he nodded.

"Let's finish this."

* * *

Ginny gasped, consciousness hitting her like a sledgehammer.

Everything hurt.

She seemed to be in her bedroom. She was lying in her bed in a soft white robe, and she was alive.

Merlin, she'd never been so happy to see this place before.

Faint, confused memories assaulted her; she could vaguely remember arriving at the safehouse and dropping to the muddy ground, screaming and crying.

And then...nothing. She must have been found, otherwise she'd have died with no-one but the unconscious Mudblood to keep her company.

Someone must have found her and healed her.

Grimly, she pulled back her sleeve and stared, horrified.

Someone had healed her, but her arm looked like something from one of the Dark Arts books she'd studied. The skin was all blackened and covered in enormous ugly blisters, and she could clearly see where the Mudblood had cut her.

It had been healed, but it looked monstrous, like the flesh had been removed, ground, and minced before being placed back into her arm.

The Dark Mark was a misshapen mess, only even recognizable from the faint green of the snake.

_'It can be fixed. It can be fixed. Merlin, I'm alive and free, I can deal with this.'_

"You're awake!"

She just gaped as Bellatrix barrelled toward the bed, too shocked to react as she was seized in a tight hug.

"Never, never do that to me again! Do you know how worried you had me? Oh, my baby girl-"

"B-Bella? You-what? You're here?"

Bellatrix released her and sat on the bed. With a smile, she reached out and ran a hand through Ginny's hair.

"I came back last night. And you were gone. But then-then you came back. I'm so, so proud of you. My brilliant girl, I'm so proud of you."

Tears pricked up at the corners of Ginny's eyes, her heart swelling.

She couldn't stay mad at Bellatrix, not after everything she'd been through. Their fight seemed like a tiny thing, like something that didn't even matter.

How could it matter? A paltry few hours before, Ginny had been certain that she'd be tortured into insanity before being murdered. How could something as meaningless as an argument matter when compared to that?

"You healed me?"

Bellatrix nodded, a shadow passing over her face for a moment.

"Dolohov helped. The arm was the hardest to do, but the cut in your side would have killed you quicker. I'm very impressed, love. I imagine there is a fascinating story attached to this."

"That Mudblood cunt. Is she still alive?"

Smirking, Bellatrix nodded.

"You have no idea what you've given us with her. I'm sure you want to play with her, but you'll have to wait. We searched her when we put her in the dungeon. And we found this."

Bellatrix put her hand into her pocket for a moment. When she removed it, she was holding a gleaming gold coin.

_'One of those DA coins. Holy fuck, they're still using them.'_

"Look at it," Bellatrix chuckled, "Potter's last message is still there."

Her fingers trembling, Ginny took the coin, and read.

_"We're going to hit them where it hurts. We're taking Hogwarts. We expect them to have reinforcements. We need every wand. Every one of you, we need you. Harry."_

"We need to tell the Dark Lord," she whispered, pain forgotten in her excitement. "Merlin, Bella, we need to summon him!"

"Already done, nearly an hour ago. He'll be here soon. And then...well, are you up for a battle?"

_'I'll have to use the Mudblood's wand. Fuck it, it's mine now.'_

"I'm going to kill them all," she hissed, "I'm fit to fight."

Laughing, Bellatrix hugged her again, their lips crashing together for a moment.

"Of course you are. Finally, we're going to kill that half-blood brat. And when we're done, we'll have time to punish that uppity Mudblood bitch."

"You-you won't leave again, will you?"

Bellatrix shook her head quickly, looking almost apologetic.

"Definitely not. I'll be with you forever, love."


	42. Sixth year, part three

Year Six, Part Three

The wrought iron winged boars seemed to frown down at her, their faces transformed from their old, welcoming expressions to frightening grimaces.

Perhaps they would have been frightening, had Ginny not been standing beside her lord.

Well, leaning slightly beside her lord.

She was managing to stand all right, though, and that was all that really mattered.

Bellatrix and Dolohov may have healed her, but there was only so much that magic alone could do, without the medicinal effects of time and rest.

Her whole body ached. Her arm and side were the worst, but her legs had almost given out when she'd ran down the stairs upon the Dark Lord's arrival at the safehouse.

Still, she meant what she'd told Bellatrix earlier; she was up for a fight. No matter what, she wouldn't miss out on being here for this, for the moment when Potter would finally be captured and executed, along with the rest of his stupid little group.

Twinges of pain were still shooting out from the Mark on her arm, making her rub it while she waited for her lord to finish whatever he was doing.

It had burned about an hour previously, hurting worse, even, than Granger's Cruciatus had. Obviously, when the Mudblood had ruined it, she'd done more than just mess up its appearance. The Dark Lord had summoned them before, and it hadn't hurt even nearly as badly then.

Once this was all over, she was going to make Granger pay.

The Dark Lord's wand flashed through the air, something just beyond the edge of vision flying from the tip and hurtling towards the castle.

Immediately, a huge spider web of blue lines appeared a short distance from the castle, enveloping Hogwarts within its obviously protective net.

There were some awed mutters behind her, but Ginny was too engrossed in what her lord was doing to turn.

Something shot from his wand, shining so bright that it hurt her eyes and yet she was powerless to look away.

His spell was stopped by the web, but it clearly had the desired effect.

From the point of impact, darkness spread out, the blue lines slowly vanishing.

"Soon, their defences will fall," the Dark Lord murmured, his voice cutting through the susurrus of conversation behind them. "Prepare yourselves."

Ginny reached out blindly, gripping Bellatrix's hand tightly as she finally turned.

Everyone was there, everyone they could gather. Dolohov was near the front of the group, with a sullen-looking Rookwood standing right beside him.

Behind them, the crowd of Death Eaters and their associates stretched out. She could dimly make out Draco's cringing figure, between those of his parents.

To her left, she could see two giants moving through the distant Forbidden Forest; their heads just cleared the treetops, and she could see the enormous trees bending and breaking before them.

Hordes of dementors were, she knew, accompanying the giants, creating a pincer on the school from another direction.

It was quite mad, really, how much had happened in the last hour.

Once the Dark Lord had arrived back at the safehouse, everything had just happened so quickly.

He hadn't even wasted the time on having Ginny tell him what had happened, instead just diving into her mind and using Legilimency to divine the truth. Bellatrix had shown him the coin with Potter's message on it right away and immediately, the Dark Lord had acted.

He'd reached out and pressed his finger to Bellatrix's Mark, summoning the other Death Eaters and inflicting the single worst agony Ginny had ever experienced. She'd actually blacked out from the pain, only coming to a few moments later.

In the few minutes before the Death Eaters had arrived, he'd given her Mark a cursory glance before promising to examine and fix it once Potter was dead.

Then the others had come, and the chaotic whirlwind had begun.

They didn't really have much time to plan. After all, they couldn't predict how long Potter would be staying at Hogwarts for.

Once the majority of the Death Eaters had arrived, the Dark Lord had quickly explained the situation to them before assigning them missions; some were sent to fetch the giants, while others went to collect the dementors, and yet others to bring the scattered werewolves and other associates.

At some point, Rookwood had made his way there, looking bedraggled and beaten. He'd barely managed to escape Hogwarts alive.

Ginny had been quite pleased to see him being taken to task by their lord for allowing Potter and the Order to take Hogwarts.

And then...well, then they'd come here, for the Dark Lord to begin dismantling the Hogwarts protective enchantments to allow them all to attack.

The Dark Lord suddenly turned to face them, Nagini sliding off of his shoulders to the floor as he lowered his wand.

"When I give the signal," he said, "you will attack. Spare those who wish to surrender, but show no mercy to our enemies. As for Potter...he is mine."

"My lord," Ginny said, her heart beginning to thump with excitement, "if you promised to spare the others, I am sure-"

"No. Potter must _not_  be given the option to martyr himself. Make no deals with him, no threats to force his surrender. Capture him at all costs. Do I make myself clear?"

At their murmured sounds of assent, he turned, his wand rising once more.

The web of protective enchantments around the castle was vanishing, the Dark Lord's spell eating away at the last few tendrils.

A thick, oppressive darkness seemed to shroud the castle, the lit-up windows barely piercing the gloom. It was as if a shroud covered the sun, whenever it attempted to shine on Hogwarts.

Today, the grounds would be soaked in blood.

Vague figures moved around the parapets and high towers, just barely visible if Ginny squinted.

 _'It's going to be very difficult,'_ Ginny thought, her hand tightening around Bellatrix's as a worm of unease began to gnaw at her heart.  _'They'll be attacking from above and they'll have had the chance to set up traps or any other defences. It's going to be tough.'_

Bellatrix seemed to hear her thoughts. Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, she leaned over and gave Ginny a kiss on the temple.

"You're going to do me proud, love," she whispered. "And then we'll have a chance to punish that Mudblood."

Nodding, Ginny hefted Granger's wand. So far, the spells she'd tried casting with it had all come out fine, albeit slightly...weaker, in some indefinable way, than what she was used to.

Like her wand, Granger's had a dragon heartstring as the core. Unfortunately, it was not yew, instead being made of sickeningly innocent  _vine._

It would certainly be serviceable, that was for sure. Not that it had much choice. After all, she'd won it from Granger fair and square.

Still, Ginny wished for the comforting presence of  _her_ wand.

_'As long as it works fine today, that's all that matters.'_

The Dark Lord jerked his arm, his wand extended.

In the exact moment that the final, stringlike signs of the protective enchantments fell, the wall around the Hogwarts grounds exploded inwards with an almighty thunderous crash and a squeal of breaking masonry.

The winged boars vanished, their dusty remnants landing on the grass along with the broken pieces of the wall.

"Attack."

A bloodthirsty yell tore itself from Ginny's throat, her fear vanishing as she, with Bellatrix by her side and dozens of their companions behind them, ran to carry out her lord's will.

Bright jets of light and screamed incantations split the air almost immediately as the defenders opened fire from their vantage points.

Shrieking, Ginny whipped her wand up, spells leaping from the tip toward the Astronomy Tower as she followed Bellatrix's lead and began to run in zig zags.

Her legs shrieked in protest, streamers of hot agony shooting out from her side as she forced her body, mere hours after her torture at Granger's hand, to run.

She ignored the pain and continued to run; her eyes half-closed against the sudden pyrotechnic show all around.

Spellfire made craters in the ground all around them, dirt and bits of stone flying up to hit them.

Someone flew forward, landing half in her path with strange, tentacle-like protrusions appearing all over their body.

She didn't let up for an instant, waving her wand toward wherever the spells were coming from and screaming whatever incantations came to mind.

Cutting Curses, Exploding Hexes, Killing Curses, the Imperius; they flew from her wand in equal measure, smashing up against Hogwarts' towers and parapets.

Someone fell from the North Tower, their scream abruptly ending as they crashed into the ground with a sickeningly loud splat.

An enormous roar sounded from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Ginny turned her head just in time to see a storm of arrows fly through the trees and pepper one of the giants' faces.

A moment later, there was an answering roar as Hagrid's misshapen half-brother appeared around the corner, the ground shaking as he ran toward the forest with his arms bunched into fists.

A spell hit the ground just in front of her; somehow, she managed to jump over the ditch that erupted, an agonized howl tearing itself from her throat as she landed.

She straightened with a grimace, locking her eyes on the castle doors and running toward them, only barely paying enough attention to keep aiming spells at the defenders.

Bellatrix waved her wand, hulking bestial creatures immediately forming themselves from the dirt at her command and beginning to run toward the Hogwarts' doors.

"They'll be waiting for us," she cried, "Be ready!"

Without pause, Ginny tapped herself several times with her wand, casting shields that moulded themselves around her body.

They weren't quite as good as a classical Shield Charm, and certainly nothing like a thick physical barrier would have been, but they allowed her far greater freedom of movement. They would, at the very least, prevent her being stunned or disarmed, and hopefully would deflect most hexes and minor curses.

_'Until something breaks right through them.'_

Scowling, she concentrated and began moving her wand through the strange motion her next spell required.

"Abuot Ketitot!'

Shadows condensed into a thick, inky darkness, strange creatures pulling themselves into existence. At her unspoken command, they launched themselves forward, quickly taking the lead.

It was painful to watch, to see how less effective this spell was with Granger's wand.

The shadow creatures appeared far less solid and there were far fewer of them than usual.

Still, there were enough of them to distract her enemies.

A jet-black spell shot through the air between her and Bellatrix, the wind of its passage nearly throwing her to the floor. It crashed into the castle's huge front doors, blasting them to smithereens, shards of wood flying out so far that they peppered her face and upraised arm.

Hogwarts' entrance hall was a mass of motion, resembling, more than anything, the inside of an anthill. People were running in every direction, spells flying out in a blinding display.

With a low growl, Ginny jerked her wand forward, sending her shadowy creations jumping into the castle as Bellatrix did the same with the golems she'd created from the earth.

The conjured creatures tore into the people inside, scattering them and drawing their fire.

Howling, Ginny leapt forward, ignoring the pain in her legs and entering the fray.

* * *

The castle shook, a terrible howl from the grounds making the dusty desks rattle and shake.

"Just stay put," Sirius said, "it'll be fine, you'll be safe in here."

"I want to go home," one of them whispered, looking like he was going to burst into tears at any moment.

"I know," Sirius said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. "And you will. Before you know it, this'll all be over, and you'll be out of here. But for now, I need you all to stay here and to be as quiet as you can. Can you do that for me?"

The kids barely looked like they'd heard him. The oldest of the lot gave a nod, his Adam's apple jerking like mad.

Somehow, this group had been separated from the rest of the students during the evacuation. Sirius had come across them completely by accident when he'd ducked into the classroom to get away from some pursuers.

They were lucky it was him who'd found them. Some of the Death Eaters chasing him had been werewolves, and if they were anything like Greyback…

Well, Sirius had found them and managed to calm them down to a mild panic, just by talking to them calmly and reassuring them that they'd be alright.

And now he had to leave. As much as it was necessary to keep these kids safe, it would mean nothing if Voldemort and his snake survived the night.

"I'm going to lock the door when I leave," he promised, "They won't be able to get in. You all just need to stay here, as quiet as you can, and everything's going to be alright."

"Can't-can't you stay with us?"

He shook his head, his throat closing for an instant.

Remember," he said, as he walked to the door, "just be as quiet as you can, nobody will even come in here. Promise."

Not allowing himself to see how terrified they all looked, Sirius left the room, locking the door with a Charm that a simple Alohomora wouldn't open.

Quickly, he tapped himself with his wand, reapplying his Disillusionment Charm.

He pulled out the Map and began to scan it, quickly finding his dot standing outside a classroom on the third floor. He immediately noticed the dots moving toward him.

Sirius spun around, jumping back into the alcove and jerking his wand forward.

Then he heard them; at least three raspy voices, closer to growls than anything else.

They sounded like they were arguing about him.

He saw them a moment later. It was the group who'd been chasing him earlier.

By the looks of them, he'd guessed right when he thought they were Greyback's prodigies.

_'Need to get them away from here. As long as they're around, those kids are in danger.'_

His brow furrowed in deep concentration as he focused, picturing exactly what Harry looked like.

A stray spell came within an inch of hitting him, sparks splashing up against the wall and crashing against his invisible form.

He ignored the spots of burning sensation on his neck, continuing to imagine his godson.

Then, with a twist of his wand, he cast the illusion he'd been preparing.

Harry's body appeared, slightly misty around the edges but good enough to pass as a real person, particularly with the chaos all around them.

The image hovered in place for a moment before running, at Sirius' thought, toward the stairs.

One of the Death Eaters shouted and began gesturing wildly toward it, immediately giving chase and pulling his companions in his wake.

His wand grew slick in his hands as he waited, listening and watching with everything he had, hoping they'd gotten far enough away before the illusion vanished.

After a while, he began to search the map again, absently stroking the base of the basilisk's fang tucked into his belt.

"There," he muttered, finally locating the snake on the map. "There we go."

She was only one floor beneath him, but she did appear to be on the complete opposite side of the castle.

Ron, Tonks, and Kingsley, however, were far closer, and they all seemed to be moving toward the snake.

_'They should have that under control. I'll check again in a few minutes, see how they're doing.'_

While the Map was out, he looked around to see where to go, grimacing as the dot representing Colin Creevey vanished.

There were pockets of fighting all over the castle, but the biggest area seemed to be the Great Hall.

It seemed as though their plan was working. Most of the Death Eaters had been diverted throughout the castle, with only a few having entered the Great Hall.

Something was going alright, at least.

When Voldemort finally entered and found Harry in the Great Hall, he'd have far fewer of his Death Eaters with him.

_'There. They need help on the fourth floor.'_

Gritting his teeth, Sirius shot one last glance at the classroom before running into the battle.

* * *

Snarling, Ginny twisted and shot a Killing Curse at the coward who'd dared try to take her from behind.

Her opponent quickly ducked, leaping aside and just clearing the curse's path.

Shrieking wordlessly, her fury too enormous to be contained by language, she waved her wand like a lasso, grabbing hold of the wall with her mind and pulling as hard as she could.

The wall exploded inwards, her unknown enemy vanishing in a cloud of rubble.

"Where is he?" she muttered, wiping sweat and blood from her forehead and leaning against the wall behind her. "Fucking hell, that hurts!"

They'd been fighting for what felt like hours, even if she knew, on some level, that it couldn't have been more than thirty minutes.

At some point, she'd gotten separated from Bellatrix. As near as she could tell, that had been the first time she'd seen Potter.

So far, she'd seen him three times. She'd run after him, chasing and fighting until losing sight of him.

Everything tonight, she knew, was about capturing Potter. Once the Dark Lord had Potter, this stupid rebellion would fall apart. Without their Boy Who Lived, they'd lose all motivation and give up on the insanity that was fighting the Dark Lord.

So she'd chased him, her legs growing more and more tired and painful with every step, her side hurting worse the longer she continued.

She chased him three times, and on the third time, she was close enough to see when the illusion fell.

The Order, it seemed, was smarter than she'd given them credit for being.

They were splitting the Death Eaters up, distracting them with fake images of Potter while the real one was who knows where.

"It doesn't matter. We'll find him, and that's what matters."

She was a mess, she knew. Adrenaline went to war with pain throughout her body, trying to give her the strength she needed to do what had to be done.

But this battle, this chaos, it was far more confused than anything she'd experienced before. She'd been forced, in fact, to use Occlumency, to keep her emotions at bay and allow her to just act.

As it was, she could barely think. The fact that everything hinged on this battle, that capturing and killing Potter now would remove their final obstacle...well, it made today far more intimidating than it should have been.

The loud clanking of metal in motion broke her from her reverie. She spun, pushing off from the wall into a regular standing position in one smooth but painful movement.

A suit of armour was advancing on her, a mace held in one outstretched arm, its empty helmet opening and closing ominously.

Her Explosive Curse took it in the chest, turning it maroon for the instant before it shattered with an enormous cacophony, sending bits of metal everywhere.

Immediately, she saw the student behind where the armour had been.

It was Colin Creevey, and he was standing there staring at her with his mouth hanging half-open, a look of resigned terror on his face.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, sounding like he was about to burst into tears. "Why did you-you betrayed us, you messed with my mind...I thought we were friends!"

She arched an eyebrow, raising her wand to face him.

He just continued to stare at her.

"I could never be friends with something like you. You were just practice."

Before he had a chance to even raise the wand that was hanging so stupidly by his side, she hit him with a Killing Curse, bathing him in its unearthly glow before he died.

As soon as Colin fell, someone screamed and ran forward, flinging spells wildly at Ginny.

Ginny slashed her wand, a wall of fire appearing between them and immediately shooting out at the newcomer.

Their screams sounded agonized.

Ignoring them, Ginny broke into a run, the sounds of fighting from up ahead pulling her almost magnetically.

It was only when she went down to the second floor that she came across anyone.

They were standing next to a bare patch of wall, Fred with his wand aimed at it, and George consulting a piece of battered parchment.

"They're all in the Great Hall," George was saying, "Fuck, Kingsley's-"

A red haze stole over her vision at the sight of them, the knowledge that they were here and fighting for the wrong side setting her blood aflame.

A part of her, she realized, had been hoping that they'd be smart enough to stay away. They weren't like Ron; they weren't that involved with Potter or the Order. They could have sat it out, they could have stayed away and waited for the war to be over and then continued with their lives in the bright new world Ginny was helping create.

Instead, they'd chosen to come and fight, to declare their hatred for Ginny and her lord.

And to think she'd loved them once.

As she spat out the incantation, a terrible pain shot through her leg, pushing her slightly off balance.

Tongues of green flame licked at the wall between Fred and George; her curse had missed.

They both spun to face her, their wands twisting as one.

Their combined spells smashed into her, bowling her over and sending her rolling down a staircase, her flailing arm smashing into the bannister and her back achieving new heights in agony.

Somehow, she managed to keep a grip on her wand.

Two people ran past her, locked in a tight duel and not even noticing her prone form.

Apparently, the focus of the fighting was here, on the first floor. There were far more people around, all of them too busy in their combat to notice her.

Through the open front doors, she could see minor skirmishes taking place on the grounds.

The sound of fighting was loudest from the Great Hall. Bellatrix's distinct cackle broke through the din from there, shocking Ginny into motion.

_'Kill them. Kill them and go there, that's where everyone is. If Bellatrix is there, that's where I need to go.'_

She pushed herself to her feet, almost falling over, a soft hiss escaping her.

Fred appeared at the top of the staircase, his mouth open as he began to cast a spell.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" She screamed, attacking with the first spell to come to mind.

Enormous, deep gashes appeared across Fred's body, a gurgling cry sounding as his throat opened in a torrent of blood.

"FRED! FRED!"

Fred's body vanished, pulled backwards by George who was frantically screaming his brother's name.

Ginny began to run toward them, ignoring the myriad pains registering from around her body.

She was laughing, she realized, laughing and shouting, casting spells at the top of the staircase where George had just appeared.

If they came here, if they were so willing to fight against her, then they deserved to die. She'd kill them, and she'd cleanse her family, and she wouldn't have to think about them again!

A spell zipped past her head, its brightness blinding her for a moment.

Shrieking, she spun around, a jet of fire hurtling from her wand.

The fire vanished before it got more than a few feet away from her, disappearing as if it had never existed.

Fleur was standing there, her face transformed from a vision of sublime beauty into one of utter hatred. She seemed to radiate cold, her inhuman ancestry evident as she twisted and cast a spell, her movement looking more suitable for a dance than for a fight.

Fleur shrieked in French, another curse flying from her and just missing Ginny's face.

The effects of Fleur's spell became apparent almost instantly. The floor around Ginny's feet grew soft and sticky, gaining a tarry consistency.

Fleur dodged Ginny's Killing Curse swiftly, a barrage of spells shooting from her wand quicker than Ginny could track.

"Crazy bitch," Ginny spat, "ANIMAL!"

A bright yellow hex crashed up against Ginny's chest, barely kept at bay by the shields she'd applied to herself.

Something hit her shoulder, making it feel like it was simultaneously being burnt and frozen.

Something else smashed into her hand, her wand dropping from suddenly numb fingers.

"Your brother loved you," Fleur cried. "Zey all did! What are you, that you could turn on them like that?! 'ow could you do eet?!"

Fleur raised her wand, murder in her eyes-

And had to jump out the way as a stray curse hit the floor right beside her and blew it up.

Ginny dropped to her knees, her hand gaining feeling again just in time to seize her wand.

A group of ghosts ran between her and Fleur, all of them holding their heads in their hands and wailing.

In the commotion, Ginny managed to free herself from the floor and began to inch away, crouching and waiting for the ghosts to clear so that she could attack that half-veela bitch.

The ghosts cleared, and Ginny made out Fleur, standing exactly where she had been before, her eyes narrowed and wand held forward like a baton

A body shot through the air, landing on the floor between her and Fleur. Its robes were smoking, and its face looked to have been torn off.

Her rage vanishing and being replaced with horror, Fleur shrieked and ran, rounding the corner and disappearing in the direction of the Great Hall so fast Ginny almost thought she'd apparated.

Turning around, Ginny saw what had made Fleur flee.

Dozens of enormous black spiders were coming toward her, piling through a hole in the side of the castle and clamouring over each other.

They were close enough that Ginny could see the venom dripping off of their fangs, could see the strange sheen of their eyes.

Instinctively, she shot off a Killing Curse. It hit the front spider, but the hole in their ranks was instantly filled.

With a panicked scream, she turned and ran away from the Acromantulas.

* * *

Kingsley twisted, lashing out with the basilisk's fang as he instinctively tried another Stunner.

His spell crashed up against the snake, but as with his previous attempts, it failed to achieve anything.

Hissing, the snake shot forward far faster than something of its size should have been able to move.

Kingsley managed to jerk out of its path, jumping back and just barely clearing a large pile of stone behind him.

His eyes locked onto those of the snake, Kingsley backed away until he felt the wall behind him.

"Now would be a good time to use that damned sword, Weasley!" He snapped, trying to track the snake's sinuous movements.

It was difficult. The serpent didn't stop for an instant, slithering around and trying to circle him.

"It's a bit difficult with you so fucking close," Ron shot back. "Maybe if you'd-"

"Kingsley," Tonks interrupted, "get it to come toward me, I'll push it to-"

The snake struck, flying at Kingsley in a mass of scales and teeth.

Tonks and Ron were screaming, the sounds of their panic perfectly melding with that of the nearby fight.

Bright, boiling pain erupted in his neck. As he fell to the floor, he let out a gurgled cry and jammed the basilisk's fang into the side of the snake's head.

Tried to, at least.

Before he could stab it, it shot its head around and sunk its fangs into his forearm.

His arm grew impossibly heavy, darkness creeping over the edges of his vision. He barely felt it as the snake slithered over him, its tail cold against his skin.

Light glinted off the sword's blade as it spun through the air. It cleaved through the snake's neck as if it were made of smoke, its diamond head flying off with the tongue still extended.

The sword caught the edge of Kingsley's knee on its downstroke, parting his skin as easily as it did his robes.

 _'Got some basilisk venom in me now from that,'_ he realized.

Not that it mattered, really, at this point.

For a moment, the snake didn't seem to realize it was dead. Then it fell, a strange black mist leaking from its neck along with greenish blood.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Tonks was kneeling beside him, tears marking trails down her grimy face. Ron was next to her, his mouth opening and closing but no sounds coming out.

Dimly, Kingsley realized that he couldn't hear anything at all. Not only that, but the colour was slowly seeping out of the world, everything he could see going grey and out of focus.

_'Ah. So this is what dying is like. It's not too bad, really.'_

"Go on," he said, his tongue feeling heavy and thick in his mouth. "Go kill the bastard."

* * *

Ginny pushed herself back to her feet, coughing and holding a hand against her side, absently giving Fleur's body a kick as she rose.

Everything hurt, her body feeling like she'd been run over by the Knight Bus. Just standing up straight took almost all of her strength.

She felt exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained beyond words. If not for her use of Occlumency to smother her thoughts and feelings, she was quite sure she'd have collapsed a while earlier.

It was simply too much, this bedlam. She hadn't even had a chance to rest and process what the Order and Granger had done to her, let alone even think about the people she'd killed today.

_'Don't think. It'll overwhelm me if I start thinking about it. Later, once we've won, I'll have the chance to go through everything. Now I need to act.'_

The Great Hall was a scene of utter madness, a battleground as hectic as anything Ginny had ever seen.

Everywhere she looked people were fighting, little duels breaking out and ending. Hordes of Acromantula were near the entrance, barely held at bay by, Ginny barely believed what she was seeing, a sea of house-elves armed with kitchen implements.

There looked to be about fifty people still standing, most of them defenders of Hogwarts.

Sirius was duelling Dolohov, the pair of them twisting and turning around everyone else.

George and Lee Jordan were fighting Rookwood; as she watched, she saw Rookwood fall with his chest caved in.

Angelina and Katie were running together, spells hurtling from their wands toward a group of fleeing werewolves.

There were others there, dozens of people she barely recognized, all of them fighting with everything they had, Potter's call obviously having spurred them into action.

Students of Hogwarts fought alongside residents of Hogsmeade, other people Ginny had seen behind counters in Diagon helping.

Near the broken hourglasses, Lucius and Narcissa were kneeling by Draco's still form. Ginny couldn't be sure, but she thought he was dead.

Simply from looking at the bodies littering the floor, Ginny could tell that their forces had been decimated.

Still, dark as the prospect seemed, Ginny knew without a doubt that they would win.

The Dark Lord was there, drawing Ginny's attention as he effortlessly duelled against Moody, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Potter at the same time.

Not too far from him, Bellatrix stood, laughing joyously as she fought her niece and Ron, the latter absurdly clutching a sword along with his wand.

A coughing fit struck Ginny, something feeling thick and loose in her throat.

She doubled up, her eyes widening with horror as she saw the blood flying from her mouth.

 _'That last spell Fleur hit me with,'_ she realized.  _'It cut up my insides or something.'_

Well, there was only one thing for it. She'd have to be healed, and that, she knew, would only take place once the battle had been won.

It was time to finish this.

_'Help Bellatrix with those two, then both of us can help the Dark lord. Then I can rest.'_

But if she tried to curse either of Bellatrix's opponents from where she was, chances were she'd miss, particularly with the way her hands were shaking.

She couldn't risk that, not if a miss might mean she'd hit Bellatrix instead.

Summoning up reserves of strength she didn't know she had, Ginny began to limp toward the fight.

Tonks went flying, blasted away from Bellatrix.

Laughing, Bellatrix aimed at Ron.

Ginny's mother appeared from nowhere, barrelling forward with her cloak trailing behind her. She shouldered Ron aside, taking his place and slashing her wand through the air, an enormous thunderclap sounding.

"YOU STOLE MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" She shrieked, curses spitting from her wand with ferocious speed.

For a moment, Bellatrix stood stunned, barely managing to defend herself.

Then she grinned and leapt forward, her own wand beginning to twirl and dance.

"What a pity," she called, her voice carrying even over the chaos of everything else. "Ginny won't get the chance to kill you after all!"

A mindless rage stole over Ginny, adrenaline wiping away her fatigue and pain.

She broke into a run-

Someone appeared in front of her, a blonde Slytherin she vaguely recognized, Klara something or other. The girl raised her wand, thinking to fight Ginny.

Screaming, Ginny hit her right in the forehead with an explosive hex, shattering her skull and blasting her brains across the floor.

Still running, Ginny wiped the gore from her eyes.

Bellatrix and Molly were still fighting, but neither of them was wasting breath on threats or insults. Bellatrix wore an engrossed, intense expression, her mouth a furious line.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

A sledgehammer hit Ginny in her right knee; her leg gave out, her momentum carrying her forward even as she was smashed to the side.

Terrible pain emanated up from her leg. It was broken, she could tell that much without even looking at it.

Snarling, she scrabbled for her wand, seizing it and pulling herself into a sitting position.

Ron was advancing on her, still holding that stupid sword. His face was twisted, his teeth bared.

Everything seemed to stop as she saw him, her thoughts empty of all but a murderous rage and a burning need to kill him.

All of this was Ron's fault. If he hadn't befriended Potter, none of this would have happened. She'd have died in the Chamber like she was meant to, and Tom would have come back, and she'd never had been forced to kill the people she loved.

"WHERE IS-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Ron ducked to the side, but he didn't need to. Her curse went wild, flying off into a mass of students near the wall.

Ron was raising his wand again, brandishing the sword as well as if to frighten her with it.

"EXPULSO!"

Her curse hit the floor right at Ron's feet. He was thrown back, flying across half the room in an instant.

She could taste the blood leaking from her mouth, could feel it dribbling down her chin.

 _'Almost over,'_  she thought,  _'Almost over.'_

Reaching out, she grabbed hold of a torch bracket and pulled herself up, careful to put no weight on her broken leg.

 _'Kill Ron,'_ she thought,  _'kill him, then help Bellatrix. That's what I have to do.'_

She scanned the room, searching for her worthless brother, catching sight of her mother and Bellatrix as she did so.

Her eyes landed on them just as a bright green jet flew below Bellatrix's outstretched arm and collided with her chest.

She was screaming, howling mindlessly as Bellatrix fell back with her eyes glazing over.

Ginny dropped to the floor, the agony from her leg meaning nothing compared to the sudden unbelievable emptiness in her heart.

It couldn't be. Bellatrix couldn't be dead, she couldn't have been killed.

The Dark Lord shrieked, his eyes burning even brighter than usual in his pale face.

His fury erupted around him, taking almost physical form and blasting Moody, McGonagall, and Flitwick away.

Only Potter remained. He and the Dark Lord stood, staring each other down, the entire hall suddenly going quiet as a tomb.

Ginny didn't care. It didn't matter that the Dark Lord was going to kill Potter now, that this would all be over in a few minutes.

Bellatrix was dead, and her bitch of a mother had been the one to kill her.

Weeping, Ginny pulled herself forward, trying to keep her broken leg as straight as possible, everything that hit it sending new agony though her.

As if from a great distance, she could hear Potter talking.

"No Horcruxes left," he was saying, "Nothing to protect you."

She ignored him, ignored her lord's enraged response, ignored everyone around her, everyone and everything but the red-haired woman standing over the body ahead of her.

Everything faded away, tunnel vision taking over. Nothing existed but the bitch who had birthed her and Ginny's grieving, half-unbelieving pain.

Once, she'd been too weak to kill her mother. Because of that, Bellatrix was dead.

No-one was paying attention to her. Her mother, like everyone else, was watching Potter and the Dark Lord.

Lying prone on the floor, Ginny stretched her arm out, making sure her mother was in her sights.

Forcing herself to stop weeping, just for long enough to do it, she spat out the incantation.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Potter and the Dark Lord both yelled, casting spells at each other at the same time as her curse shot toward her mother.

Her spell hit her mother in the back just as Ginny screamed, a terrible  _ripping_ sensation making her left arm feel like it was going to explode.

She knew, somehow, what had happened even before she looked. Her breath catching in her throat, she turned her head to see the Dark Lord falling to the floor while Potter still stood, with two wands in his hand.

_'No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.'_

But she knew it to be true, knew it on some bone-deep level, knew it the same way that she knew the sky was up and the ground was down.

She didn't think, didn't pause to consider.

The Dark Lord had somehow been killed. It was over, it was all over.

There was no point in carrying on, not when the Dark Lord and Bellatrix had both been killed.

She raised her wand, putting the tip to her temple.

"Avada-"

"STUPEFY!"

Sirius' Stunner hit her before she could complete the curse, unconsciousness claiming her.


	43. Sixth year, part four

Year Six, Part Four

The Aurors were talking about her again, muttering about her crimes so softly that she could barely hear them.

Ginny ignored them, just as she had ignored them and all the other guards she'd had for the last month or so.

Tears sparkled in her eyes, the cheerful mural on the ceiling threatening to tear apart the last frayed threads of her sanity.

She wasn't quite sure how long it had been. As far as she could tell, it had been at least a few months; long enough for her to have totally healed from the physical effects of that fight in Hogwarts and Granger's treatment of her before it.

It didn't matter how long it had been. For all Ginny cared, she could have been lying in the stupid hospital bed for decades, with those Aurors watching her and the manacles on her hands and feet.

Thoughts of escape hadn't even crossed her mind, at least, not in the conventional sense.

She just couldn't build up the energy to even fantasise about getting out and wreaking revenge. It was as if, along with Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, a part of her had died; that tenacious, stubborn part of her which had always kept her going had vanished, bleak despondency taking its place.

What was the point anymore? What was the point of thinking, of trying to move forward, of imagining getting away from her captors?

The Dark Lord was dead. Impossible as it was, he was dead.

No matter how much she tried to tell herself that he had survived, that even though everyone had thought he had died when Potter was a baby and he hadn't, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that he had conquered death, she knew the truth.

He had died.

Even if she had tried, she wouldn't have been able to put the depth of her understanding into words, wouldn't have been able to express it.

She knew it the same way she had once known that she was standing before him, knew it the way she knew Potter was responsible for everything that had gone wrong with her life.

If only he'd left her to die in the chamber. If only Granger had killed her. If only Black hadn't Stunned her before she could end her own miserable life.

If only, if only, if only.

Every night, she eventually drifted away, sobbing and thinking of that wonderful if only.

If only Snape hadn't been a traitor. If only Lucius Malfoy had taken Potter right away instead of dawdling. If only she'd killed her mother along with her father.

Her nights were filled with confused dreams, strange mixtures of the paradise they'd have created if Potter had been killed and visions of her victims. Bellatrix pranced around in those dreams, while the Dark Lord spoke Ginny's praises and her dead family and Luna stared at her and wept.

Almost every morning began with tears, as the terrible icy knowledge settled in again, as the joy at seeing Bellatrix and the Dark Lord faded into horrified remembrance.

The days started with tears and only got worse from there.

There was nothing for Ginny any more. Everything was over, everything she had planned and hoped the future would bring having vanished in a wave of Potter's wand.

All hope had died that night, every positive feeling Ginny could possibly have mustered withering along with it.

Even if she were to escape, what was there for her? To live, hunted and alone, always thinking of the ethereal what if?

Realistically, even if she managed to free one of her hands, she would just use it again to try and escape everything the only way she could think of.

If only she could get a hand out of the manacles. If only there weren't Aurors present. If only they still left the Dreamless Sleep beside her bed, and if only the Healers hadn't stopped her from downing the bottle and putting an end to her farce of a life.

Bellatrix, she knew, would have hated her if she could see Ginny as she was, if she could see the pathetic bitch she'd become, a weak, disgusting creature who couldn't even summon up the energy to think of revenge.

But Bellatrix couldn't see Ginny. Bellatrix, full of life and primal joy though she had been, was dead.

Her tears came faster as she remembered her lover, remembered the light in her eyes and how absolutely vibrant she had been.

Ginny began to shake with her sorrow, the railings of her bed clanking as they shook with her.

One of the Aurors muttered something to his friend, who chuckled in reply.

They'd been laughing about her a lot, lately, ever since the trials had been planned.

Ever since that lawyer had come to visit.

It was almost enough to make  _her_  laugh, the fact that the Wizengamot had tried to appoint a lawyer for her. He'd been easy enough to turn down, especially since he hadn't really wanted the job, but it was absurd.

What could he do, anyway? Convince them to send her to Azkaban instead of killing her? Convince them to send her to St Mungo's, to spend the rest of her life as she was currently doing?

No. She had no interest in anything like that, no interest in trying to lie about her actions.

She was still strong enough to proudly take credit for everything she'd done. Weak as she was, she was still strong enough for that.

For now, at least, she was still strong enough for that.

But if it was too much longer until the trial, she feared she wouldn't be strong enough.

As it was, every day was worse than the previous, with that depression sinking deeper and deeper into her very being.

She was alone, with no-one to love her, no-one to care for her, no-one on her side.

A memory popped into her mind, something from her early childhood.

She must have been five or six years old. She'd had a nightmare and had woken up, crying and alone in her bed.

Her mother had been there in a flash, lying beside her and whispering something soft and confronting.

The weight of her mother's body seemed to press in on her as she remembered it, that consoling, loving presence. She'd been picked up in gentle, strong arms and carried to her parents' room where she had spent the rest of the night, easily falling back asleep between her mother and father.

She couldn't remember what it was that had so frightened her, what her nightmare had been. All she could remember was how safe she had felt when her mother had come, how warm and secure and confident that nothing could possibly go wrong, not when she had Mum and Dad with her.

And she knew, without any room for doubt, that she would never experience that again. She'd lost the right for comfort, lost the right for happiness when she had chosen as she had.

The worst, she thought, was that it had all been for nothing. All the people she once loved who had died at her hand, all the endless agonizing she'd experienced, all the horror she'd forced herself through; it had all been for nothing.

She'd killed her family, the only people who might have had the chance of caring for her, she'd betrayed the wizarding world, she'd cast aside everyone who was now in charge.

And it had all been for nothing.

Her eyes alit on the Mark on her arm, her sobs growing louder at the sight.

Somehow, the Healers had managed to fix what Granger had done to her. Her arm was smooth now, not looking like a mass of ground beef stuck into her flesh.

It was smooth and unblemished, and the Dark Mark was no longer present.

They'd taken it from her, somehow, taken even her proudest moment from her.

Now it existed only in memories.

Once, she had been the youngest Death Eater ever. She had been the Dark Lord's most loyal and trusted follower; she had struck fear even into the hearts of those who were on her side.

And now she was nothing but a pathetic girl who spent her days crying and thinking of the elusive if only.

 _'Disgusting,'_ a quiet voice whispered in the back of her mind, its first time speaking since she had woken up here.  _'Disgusting. After everything you've done, you're just going to give up now? At least get revenge first!'_

But what was the point? What was the point in trying when everything was over?

Frankly, the best she could hope for was to die. To die and finally be free of everything, to go into the blackness and just  _cease_.

She could hope, the infinitesimal part of her that still did, that she would be executed instead of being placed in Azkaban.

Even if they did put her there, though, she'd find a way to do it. She wouldn't have access to any weapons, but she'd find a way.

She would.

_'You should be putting all your thoughts into plans for revenge! If not for you, then for the Dark Lord's sake!'_

She began to cry harder, shaking again.

That voice was correct, she knew. If only she were just a bit stronger, just a bit more able to do what needed to be done, then she'd be capable of thinking about revenge. But she wasn't. She was weak, weak and pathetic and every other word Bellatrix had ever used to describe her.

"You think she's crying because her trial's coming up? Because she knows where she'll be going?"

"Maybe," the other Auror said. "Personally, I'd like to think she's feeling guilty. But fuck, after everything the others said about her, I'd be surprised if she could feel guilt. Fucking monster."

He turned to face her, a sneer tugging at his lips.

"You heard about that yet?"

"Probably not," the other one said, brushing his hand through sandy hair. "She only has contact with her guards these days, and I don't see Quentin or Marcus telling her anything."

The first Auror ignored the byplay, his piggish little eyes boring into her.

"Your pals' trials have started. They've all been so desperate to escape justice that they've started spilling the beans about everything you fuckers got up to. Between them and all the other witnesses...well, you've got no choice of coming out alright. Especially since you've been dumb enough to turn down all the offers for a lawyer."

For the first time in months, Ginny laughed, the absurdity of it all breaking through the black cloud that constantly coated her.

"You think I care? Kill them, kill me, you think I care? There's nothing you can do, nothing you can-I  _want_  to die, and you think I care!"

She was shaking again, but this time it was mirth that moved her, mirth and a rising, furious rage.

"Kill me," she hissed, her laughter abruptly ending, "kill me or I'll kill you, I'll-I'll-I'll ruin you, I'll destroy you!"

A pained expression flickered across the face of the taller one, his features hardening a moment later.

The other one, however, just smiled.

"We know," he said, "and we're not the only ones. Some of the Healers leaked to the Prophet. They all know about how you tried to end it all. They all know that you want to die. So, think about that, monster. They're not going to give you what you want. You're not going to get off quite that easily. You'll get Azkaban for life, put under suicide watch. You can lie there and cry, and think about the people you killed, and I hope it fucking hurts, I hope that you spend every second of the rest of your life wishing you'd done something different, but-"

"Dez, enough."

The Auror, apparently named Dez, turned back to his friend with a snarl.

"You heard what that Nott kid said, Rick, it was her who killed Larson and-"

"I know, but you're really close to losing your cool, mate. We've been through this; we can't punish her. That's not what we're here for."

His shoulders shaking, Dez turned back to Ginny, looking like he was going to attack.

Then he spat on the floor and walked to the door.

"I'm taking a smoke break. Can't look at this scum right now."

"Yeah. You do that."

As the door closed behind Dez, Rick heaved a great sigh and ran his hand through his hair again.

"You'll get what you deserve," Rick said softly after a few moments. "And I hope you spend the rest of your life wishing you were dead."

 _'I already do,'_ Ginny thought, sinking back into her bed with the bleakness returning.  _'I already do. I've got to make sure the trial goes my way. That's all. I've got to make sure the trial goes my way and that they kill me.'_

 _'Disgusting,'_ that voice whispered again,  _'After everything the Dark Lord and Bellatrix did for you, you're going to try and die. You owe it to their memories to fight for as long as you can.'_

To that, Ginny had no answer.

* * *

She held the letter as close to her face as the chains around her arms would let her and began to read, the words shimmering through her tears.

It was almost surprising that she was allowed mail.

Almost, but not entirely. After all, her brother was a war hero and Potter was his best friend, and if George told them that he wanted to send her a letter, they definitely could make sure it would happen.

What was truly surprising, however, was the fact that George had even written to her in the first place.

That shocked her, evoking a strange mixture of loss and guilt that was somehow entirely different from what she felt whenever she thought of Bellatrix or the Dark Lord.

_"Ginny,_

_You're probably wondering why I'm bothering to write this to you. Honestly, I am too. But I've been told it might help, that it might help me to get some of my thoughts and feelings out._

_These days, I need all the help I can get._

_I'm not going to lie. The whole point of this is for me to be honest, for me to actually express myself. I don't know if I'll go through with sending this, I didn't with my last few attempts, but I might, and I don't actually care what you think._

_I'm a mess, Ginny. I take Dreamless Sleep every night, because if I don't, then I don't sleep. If, somehow, I do sleep, I wake up crying after less than an hour._

_I've been spending most of the day at the cemetery. You wouldn't care, but it's very pretty there. Very calming._

_I don't even know what to say to you, really. I hate you more than I could express, I'm furious with you, I'm disgusted with you, I want to kill you._

_What you did to us is...I can't describe it. You ruined us. Ron and I are the only Weasleys left, and both of us are...not in the best places."_

"Good," Ginny muttered, her voice coming out twisted and choked. "Good, fucking suffer!"

_"I still can barely believe that you actually did all of this. You were our sister. We loved you. Fred and I, we'd have done anything for you. All you had to do was say the word, and we'd have done anything for you. We all would have. Hell, we fucking did. I can't tell you how guilty I feel, knowing that it was Fred and me who showed you how to sneak into the Restricted Section. Would you have become what you did if we hadn't done that? Had you already decided, then, that you were going to join the Death Eaters?"  
_

"I had decided," she whispered. "But maybe I wouldn't have become one. Higgs would never have found me, Barty would never have discovered me…"

It was actually almost hilarious, how Fred and George had indirectly set her path in motion.

_"But we trusted you. We trusted you, and we wanted to help. We shouldn't have. You know, I can remember how proud we were of you. You were fun to have around, you weren't an annoying, spoiled princess like we thought you would be. You were our sister, and we loved you. I don't think I can put it any clearer than that._

_You were our sister, and now you're something else entirely._

_And all this killing that you did, Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Fred. All of them, our family. You killed them, and you still lost. You came out the loser. You got nothing for it. I hope that rankles you. I hope there's a part of you that hates what you did, that makes you feel even slightly as bad as I do. I hope that you hate yourself."_

"You know nothing," Ginny giggled, tears pooling on her chin and dripping onto the parchment in her hands. "You don't know anything about pain!"

_"The papers say that you do nothing but cry all day and that you tried to kill yourself. I hope that's true._

_But I don't feel bad for you. I can't, because I'm just too fucking angry. Too angry, too hurt, too busy trying to just fucking survive._

_I feel a bit bad for the girl who you were, that good, sweet, fun girl who knew right from wrong, who loved her family and friends. Her, I feel bad for. But not for you. You don't deserve my pity._

_Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to live. I'm going to fight every day, I'm going to do whatever I can to heal, and one day I'll even joke again. I'm going to open the shop I started with Fred again, and I'm going to carry on, and I'll keep their memories alive. It'll be hard, and sometimes I'll want to just give up and join them in the cemetery, but I'll carry on somehow.  
_

_Maybe I'll get married, have kids. If they ever ask, I'll tell them that Voldemort killed my sister when she was eleven years old._

_I'll carry on, somehow. I'll find a way to be happy again, because I know that Fred would want me to laugh, that Mum and Dad would tell me to live my life, that Bill and Charlie and Percy would tell me to carry on._

_I'll live. And you won't. If they don't put you to death, you'll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban. You'll never be anything other than the crazy psycho who killed her family and got nothing but a cell._

_And one day, you'll die. And no-one will shed a tear. No-one will be sad, no-one will miss you._

_I'm not looking for answers, or explanations. I doubt I'll ever get them. But I want you to know that you might have killed the rest of us, but Ron and I still survived. And I can't speak for him, but I'm going to live, and no matter how hard it is, no matter if I spend every day crying and missing them, somehow, I'm going to thrive._

_Somehow, I'm going to laugh again._

_George."_

Laughing, the tears streaming down her face making it almost impossible to see what she was doing, Ginny began to tear the parchment to shreds.

* * *

"I don't care who you are," Rick said hotly, "but you're not going to be left alone with her. We've got our orders, and we keep them! One of us is with her at all times, and that's that."

The person Rick was arguing with replied, speaking far too softly for Ginny to make out anything of their voice.

Frankly, she didn't really care that much. Her trial was the next day, and she was too busy trying to deal with her conflicting viewpoints and formulate a plan to even feel curious.

That little voice had grown more insistent since it's reappearance the previous week, telling her almost nonstop that she dare not give up and try to get them to execute her; she owed it to Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, the voice said, owed it to them to do everything in her power to survive, to hold out for even the possibility of vengeance.

That little voice was entirely correct. No matter how terrible she felt, no matter how hopeless everything seemed, she knew the right thing to do was to stay alive.

And yet, simply the thought of doing so filled her with dread.

If there was a way, a way for her to stay alive and yet not suffer for every moment that she did so, it wouldn't be a question.

As far as she could tell, however, there wasn't.

The one thing she was certain of, was that she wouldn't lie or deny anything during her trial. She wouldn't pretend to have been forced into the Dark Lord's service.

A part of her hoped that they would be so horrified that they'd sentence her to death.

Regardless of her befuddled thoughts, regardless of what decision she came to, the choice was not hers to make.

The Wizengamot would decide her fate, and she was quite certain they'd be sending her to Azkaban, no matter how she acted during her trial.

All that she could control would be how she acted then; Would she hang herself in her cell, or would she force herself to survive through every miserable day?

The door opened with a slight squeal, Ginny's eyes turning to her visitor.

It was good to know that even after everything she had seen and experienced, she could still feel something other than that all-powerful hopelessness.

The chains on her arms and legs clinked as she began to tremble with fury, her rage causing a red haze to steal over her vision.

Potter walked calmly into her room, casually moving one of the Aurors' chairs slightly closer to her.

She barely noticed Rick walking in behind him, so focused was she on the source of all her misery.

Words tore themselves from her throat with no input from her mind, her voice growing louder and turning into a half-wailed screech.

"Get out, get out, GET OUT! YOU-I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL-"

Potter's wand flashed, a Silencing Charm settling on her instantly.

She didn't care that she wouldn't be heard. She continued to scream, roaring out her furious pain, mingling threats with insults and useless Curses.

Potter just watched her, his eyes deep wells of sorrow.

For nearly half an hour by the ticking of the clock above the door, Ginny ranted, her throat starting to get sore even with the Silencing Charm. Eventually, Ginny flopped back onto the bed, exhausted.

Potter leaned slightly forward.

"I hope you're done. There are a few things I need to say, and I'd prefer if you heard them. But I don't need to say this for you, I need to say this for _me._ "

_'I don't want to hear anything he's got to say, I don't care, it's all his fault, all of this!'_

What he next said, however, stopped her in her tracks.

"You never found out what the diary actually was, did you?"

She realized after a moment that her mouth was hanging half-open.

No, she'd never found out what exactly it was. From some of the things Bellatrix had said, she'd known it was more than just a container for an enchanted memory, but she'd never gotten any specifics.

"I thought not," he said. "It's not like Voldemort would have told you. Well, let's just say it was...very powerful dark magic. It wasn't just a memory of him possessing you. It was a  _part_  of him. And I can't imagine what that did to you."

He shook his head, his hair parting for a moment and revealing that hateful scar.

_'A part of him? What?'_

"I pity you," Potter continued, his voice dropping so much that Ginny almost had to strain to hear it. "I mean, I hate you too, the things that you did-"

He broke off for a moment, rubbing his eyes and looking exhausted.

Ginny's mind was working frantically, trying to understand, trying to make sense of this revelation.

Of course, she'd known that it hadn't simply been a memory. But if it, as he said, was powerful dark magic, and it was a part of him…

That meant Soul Magic. Couldn't have been some variation of Occlumency or normal possession, because then he'd have known everything without needing Barty to discover her. No, it had to have been Soul Magic.

Ginny knew almost nothing of Soul Magic, nothing other than the fact that it was dangerous beyond words. Even Bellatrix had claimed to know very little, but had promised to share what little she had known when they were no longer at war.

And now that would never come.

Strange, how it still hurt to think about that.

_'Some part of his soul, or something like that. And that was in me! In me!'_

Exultation began to fill her, fierce pride rising for the first time in months.

Until, that is, she remembered that he was dead, that he had, somehow, been killed by Potter.

"It's...I don't know what that could have done to you. But what's worse, is I don't know what you would have been without it. None of us can. You were a victim of him. And he didn't just kill or torture you. He-he perverted you, he  _changed_  you. You were one of his victims."

 _'Maybe at first,'_ she wanted to scream,  _'But I chose to be more, and by the end, I was his favoured, I was his right hand-'_

"And that's why- that's why I'm not going to let them kill you. Hell, Ron and Hermione still want you dead,"

He laughed then, an utterly humourless sound that was almost a cry.

"Less so since that article about you being suicidal, but they still do. And if I was with them on it... I've got friends in very powerful places. I could arrange for, I don't know, your guards to be taking a break at the same time for a bit when a healer accidentally leaves a bottle of Draught of the Living Death within your reach. I could do it."

He leaned slightly closer, his eyes boring into hers.

"But I won't. And I won't let them kill you. Maybe I'm just naive, maybe I'm a trusting fool, but with Voldemort dead...maybe, one day, what he did to you will wear off. Maybe you'll be able to come back here and get treatment. Maybe you'll become the girl you should have been."

He wiped at his eyes again, looking like he was going to burst out crying.

"I doubt it, but it's possible. And if it doesn't happen, if you never recover...well, you'll have a long time to think about how badly you failed. If you did die, you'd be escaping. And I won't let that happen. Because as much as I do pity you, I hate you too. You still had a choice. You still could have done the right thing. You could-you could have been anything. But you chose to become a monster. And I hope you spend the rest of your life wondering what you would have been if you'd chosen differently."

He rose in one swift motion and began to leave.

Then he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

Not turning to face her, he spoke again.

"You said that I should have let you die in the Chamber. You were right. That way, you'd have died one of his victims, instead of carrying on to become something almost as bad as him."

And with that, he left the room.

* * *

Ginny fidgeted in her chair, the chains tight and uncomfortable on her arms and legs. She showed no discomfort, however, refused to allow so much as a flicker of unhappiness to be seen in her expression.

She kept her eyes focused on Minister Robards as he read the litany of her crimes and forced the small smile to remain on her face.

Some of the names stung, but she wouldn't allow anyone to see her weakness. She widened her smile at those, widened into until her face felt like it would rip.

Other than the sound of Robards' voice, the room was entirely silent, no-one making the slightest noise.

She'd seen, just before the trial began, a few of the Aurors present casting what looked to be some variation of Silencing Charms, ensuring that none of the audience would be able to interrupt the proceedings.

Right in the centre of the audience, Ron, George, Granger, Potter, and Black were sitting in a small clump of chairs.

"... Fratricide, in the case of the murder of Fred Weasley, the murder of Fleur Delacour, the murder of Klara Stenmead, and matricide, in the case of the murder of Molly Weasley with the use of the Killing Curse."

Ginny caught Ron's eye and winked, maintaining that smile all the while.

He looked just about ready to leap over the balcony and strangle her, dozens of people watching or not.

"How do you plead?" Robards said with a touch of heat in his voice.

_'He must have asked me already. Merlin, I let them distract me.'_

Well, that was a mistake. She'd prepared what she was going to say, and the presence of her surviving family would not stop her.

"I did it all," she said, as loudly and happily as she could manage. "I killed them all. And a few more that you missed. Terrence Higgs and his parents, Colin Creevey, dozens of muggles, so many I can't count, so many…"

Her train of thought was wandering, trying to abandon her.

She pressed on.

"I did it all, but I'm not guilty. I did what needed to be done, every time. If you-if you hadn't betrayed everything we stand for, if you people cared at all for magic itself, you'd have done the same. I did it all, and I'd do it again."

She could see people leaning over and whispering to one another in the audience, could hear the members of the Wizengamot muttering.

Potter had his arm on Ron's shoulder, and seemed to be trying to calm him down. Her brother's face was pale as snow, his ears bright red.

Granger was staring at her, expressionless as she had been most of the time when she was torturing Ginny.

And suddenly, Ginny was enraged beyond belief. She should never have been in this situation. These people were blood-traitors, muggle-loving scum who had turned their backs on everything that made wizards great, and they dared to sit in judgement on her?

Her carefully rehearsed words vanished from her mind, that rage blotting out all her planning.

"I did it all," she said. "And you-you fuckers should have been helping! I wouldn't have been forced to kill so many if you'd all done the right thing, if you'd all-THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU PEOPLE MADE ME DO IT, YOU MADE  _US_  DO IT! I DID THE RIGHT THING!"

Someone shouted something, but Ginny ignored them.

She pressed up as much as possible, leaning forward until the chains were holding her down.

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL! PUT ME IN AZKABAN, AND I'LL GET OUT! I'LL GET OUT, AND I'LL KILL EVERY ONE OF YOU!"

The chains tightened around her arms and legs, dragging her back into a complete sitting position.

She began to weep, rage and sorrow and despair combining within her into something simply too much to deal with.

Her tears took over, her wailing overcoming her ability to speak and turning her words into nothing but half-spoken gibberish.

Ron still looked furious, but the Mudblood was nodding slowly with a small satisfied smile.

_'She's come around to Potter's way of thinking. She thinks it's more of a punishment for me to go to Azkaban than it would be to kill me.'_

If that was the case, then as much as Ginny hated it, Granger was right.

_'Stop this crying immediately. I'm making myself look pitiful. At least let me show how proud I am to have served him well.'_

Pulling all her force of mind and strength of will to bear, Ginny banished her tears, forcing herself to stop crying as she raised her head and shook her hair out of her eyes.

"You have shown no remorse for your crimes," Robards announced, his voice ringing through the courtroom and silencing all the muted conversations. "Not even for those most reprehensible, most repugnant, those as terrible as anything ever heard in this court; your actions against your own family-"

Breaking out into a wild cackle, Ginny interrupted him.

The chains tightened around her as she leaned forward again, her eyes locking on her brothers, Potter, Granger, and Black.

"Most repugnant of my actions? What, because they were my family, I was meant to care more about them than anyone else? I turned my back on them, I left those worthless, disgusting muggle-lovers, those-those fucking idiots, I-"

She shook her head, laughing too hard to speak.

When she finally regained her composure, she continued, keeping her eyes on her siblings all the while. Ron was standing up, and by the looks of things, he was shouting. She could see his mouth opening and closing furiously, while the other non-jury members of the audience stared at him and Harry and Sirius whispered into his ears.

George was weeping, tears streaming in torrents down his face.

And Granger was still staring at her with that small smile.

_'Fuck them all. Let them see what I am. I'm not one of them, and I haven't been for years. They think I'm a monster. Let them see how much of one I really am.'_

"After I killed Percy and that Mudblood's parents," she continued, almost choking on another throe of giggles, "I fucked Bellatrix for the first time. I celebrated once I killed them."

Granger raised her left arm, and still maintaining eye contact with Ginny, still smiling, tapped it a few times just above the elbow.

_'Don't let her get to you, don't let her!'_

"They should have been helping  _me!_ But they chose him, they wanted to help Potter, and so they deserved to die! The same as the rest of you, they-they were nothing to me! They were nothing, and their deaths meant nothing!"

Her speech was met with a ringing silence,

Ron, she could see, was sitting back in his chair, his face burning with righteous fury.

Out of nowhere, a memory popped into her mind, as crisp and bright as if it had happened the previous day.

She could see it in perfect detail; It was Third Year Christmas Break, Ron was playing chess with her, and she felt more comfortable than she had almost the entire rest of her school career.

That had been before she'd killed Higgs, before Barty had discovered her, back when she'd still loved her family and been loved by them.

Merlin, everything had been so fucking simple then.

And nothing would ever be like that again. She'd never be able to relax, never be able to simply  _be_ and forget about her worries. No matter what, the knowledge of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord's deaths would always be lurking at the back of her mind, along with the faces of the people she'd killed and tortured and ruined.

Happiness was over for her.

"All those of the jury in favour of lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban, please raise your hands."

Her head shot back up again, her eyes beginning to rove around the jury and count.

Her heart caught in her throat as she realized what she was seeing.

Every member of the jury had their hand in the air.

They'd decided. They wouldn't let her off, wouldn't let her die and escape this horror her life had become.

They were going to send her to Azkaban, to spend the rest of her life rotting on that godforsaken island.

Her mind seemed to stop working, pure instinct taking over and forcing her body into action.

She was struggling against her bonds, screaming and crying and thrashing, trying desperately and uselessly to escape, trying to get them to change their minds. The Aurors from either side of the courtroom were approaching her and, still screaming, she began to whip her head from side to side, snapping at them and trying to bite.

One of them raised his wand, scarlet motes of light gathering at the tip of it.

The darkness rushed in on her along with his Stunner.


	44. Epilogue

Epilogue

Ginny curled into a ball on her bed and shook, her hands scratching restlessly at her scalp as her weeping echoed through the prison.

No-one responded, no-one called out to her, not even Dolohov. He, like her other comrades-in-arms, had given up trying to calm her after their first few weeks of imprisonment.

Azkaban was nothing like she'd expected. She'd had ages to think about what it would be like. S

After all, she'd done little else during her time awaiting trial in St Mungo's.

She'd imagined that she would at least be able to somehow see her friends, her compatriots who had been, like her, imprisoned there.

She couldn't. Most of the high-security cells were empty, the vast majority of the Dark Lord's best having been killed throughout the war. The Ministry had chosen to fill them in such a way that none of them was facing another occupied cell.

They could still talk, of course, but it was hard to hold a conversation. The stone walls seemed to muffle sounds, replacing them with a menacing silence.

The only people who could even hear her were the others in the high-security cellblock; Dolohov, Rookwood, Wormtail, and Yaxley.

The others had been placed in the normal cells. Most of them hadn't even got life-sentences, and those that had still weren't deemed as high a risk as she and the few others in the more secure cells. Even Wormtail, she thought, wouldn't have gotten one of those cells except for the fact that he was an Animagus.

It was an honour, in a way, for her to be treated as such an object of fear.

Well, she tried to tell herself that it was an honour, but frankly, it was difficult to make herself believe it.

The ever-present cold bit into her, the totality of her failures weighing heavily on her already despondent mind.

Even with all the Ministry's improvements to it, even without the Dementors, Azkaban was every bit as terrible as she'd imagined it would be.

She'd noticed it already when she visited with the Dark Lord; how the prison itself imparted a Dementor-like sense of hopelessness and despair. She'd noticed it then, but she'd never really realized just how terrible it would be on a long-term basis.

It was worse than she could have possibly imagined.

Dolohov could say all he liked about how much better it was than when he'd last been imprisoned there, but it had no impact on her.

During her first few weeks there, she'd kept herself sane and entertained by imagining what she would do; how she would somehow escape and master Soul Magic, and how she would use that to restore the Dark Lord to life.

It hadn't taken her long to acknowledge those ideas for what they were; nothing more than the fantasies of a stupid girl who couldn't accept the totality of her defeat.

She'd need to escape to be able to do anything. And no matter how badly she wanted it, escape was beyond her capabilities.

Azkaban was simply too secure, too impenetrable. The guards patrolled regularly, and none of them came near enough to the cells for Ginny to reach through the bars and seize one of them. Even if, somehow, she would manage to grab one, it wouldn't help her.

They always patrolled in groups of at least two. And even if she managed to get a wand and get out of her cell, there were still dozens of security checks before even leaving the prison itself, and all of them manned.

No, escape wasn't a possibility outside of her wild dreams. She was trapped here, doomed to spend the rest of her life inside this shitty cell.

In truth, it wasn't as bad as what she'd seen during her visit with the Dark Lord.

A large part of the changes the Ministry had affected after the war had taken place at Azkaban. Ginny didn't see much of them, being as she was in the high-security cells, but she saw some nonetheless.

Instead of the buckets that had been in each cell, they now had actual toilets. There was a showerhead in the cell as well, set into the stone roof directly above a small drainpipe in the floor.

There was no privacy when using these facilities, of course, but it was better than nothing.

According to Dolohov, the food had improved too. They were also allowed one copy of the Daily Prophet every day, and there was discussion about allowing them, like the lower security prisoners, to leave their cells for a break period outdoors.

None of this improved Ginny's mood in the least. She was still trapped there, forced to confront her despondent thoughts and feelings for hours on end.

Azkaban had much the same effect on her as the presence of Dementors did; causing all of her worst memories and feelings of despair to rise to the surface.

Dreams of her family began to haunt her once more, wistful memories of the time when she had loved them and been loved by them. She saw them every night, her parents, her brothers, Luna.

They came to her every night and cried, berating her for betraying them so completely, for casting them aside when they would have done anything to help her, when they loved her with every fibre of their being.

It was as if being in Azkaban had torn apart all the progress she'd made in the last several years; once again, the thought of what she'd done to her family and Luna filled her with pain. She'd thought that she'd moved past that weakness. Azkaban, it seemed, was determined to prove her wrong.

It hurt again, just as badly as when she'd first decided that she wanted to serve the Dark Lord. Hell, it hurt worse than when she'd first actually killed her family. It wasn't that surprising, to be honest. Back then, she'd had something to look forward to, or been too caught up in the heat of the moment to think about it.

Now, she had nothing but time and regret.

Thoughts of the Dark Lord and Bellatrix still plagued her, of course. But for some reason, as her time in Azkaban grew longer, it was thoughts of her family and Luna which hurt the most.

Outside, the moon rose, its silvery light streaming through the tiny, barred window and bathing her in the glow.

She could hear the waves crashing up against the shore outside, could smell their salty tang.

That was the closest she would come to actually being outside, the closest she would come to being able to swim in the ocean.

From further down the block of cells, she could dimly make out Yaxley and Dolohov having a murmured conversation. She couldn't hear what they were saying, only that they were speaking and that neither of them sounded like they were drowning in their sorrows as she was.

She wanted to scream at them; to jump up and hurl herself at the bars, screaming obscenities and berating them for their disloyalty. How dare they go on with their lives, how dare they be able to think and talk merrily while the Dark Lord had died and taken all of Ginny's dreams with him?

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't drag up the energy to do so.

_'You should be like them. Biding your time, waiting for the guards to grow indolent and lazy. You should be keeping your spirits up, so that when the time comes you can strike!'_

The voice, as always, was entirely correct.

But what it asked was impossible. She couldn't simply carry on, couldn't just fight her way through the rest of her life.

It was all over for her.

She ran her hand along the cool stone wall, feeling the ridges and scratches, her left arm reaching beneath her shift and dragging down along her chest, her nails cutting into the skin.

Usually, it gave her some encouragement to look at the marking on the walls.

Whoever had been in this cell before her, they'd tried to carve messages into the walls. None of them were readable anymore if ever they had been. Still, the illegible scratches showed something, something important; someone else had been in this cell.

They'd had to have been a Death Eater, to have been kept in one of the high-security cells.

Which meant that whoever it had been, they'd survived Azkaban. None of the Death Eaters had died imprisoned there, so they had to have survived. They'd survived this hell, and it must have been worse back when there were Dementors there, and they'd gone on to fight for the Dark Lord once more. There must have been times when they wanted to just give up, times when they felt it was pointless.

They hadn't. If they could do it, she could do it.

For the past few months of her imprisonment, Ginny had been drawing strength from those scratches, reminding herself constantly that she could do it.

But she'd realized yesterday, or what she thought was yesterday, how foolish it was to draw inspiration from them. Though they'd been in her cell, they hadn't been in the same situation as her.

When they'd been imprisoned here, whoever they were, the Dark Lord had been alive. Even if they'd thought he was dead, he had still survived.

They'd had something to hope for, something to  _live_  for.

She had nothing of the sort. The Dark Lord was dead. She knew that, knew it all too well.

He was dead and he'd never be coming to rescue her, he'd never be coming to return her to his service.

The previous occupant had held out, and they'd been rewarded for it. She never would. Even if she forced herself to survive, it would all be for nothing.

Slowly, her tears and snot drying on her face, she pushed herself into her back, her gaze automatically flying up to the showerhead.

Her hands curled around the pants she'd been given, the long, thin pants she was wearing.

It would be so easy. She'd need to pull her bed over there so that she could stand on it, but it would be so easy.

Merlin, everything would be so good. There'd be nothing, no pain, no despair, no hopeless wishing for a life that she'd cast aside.

She'd be free.

For years already, she'd been wishing that Potter had simply left her to die in the Chamber. Well, it was too late for that, too late to change anything that had happened, too late to change anything she'd done.

But she could at least spare herself the future pain. What else was there for her? To spend the rest of her life like this, wiling out her days and wishing for an opportunity that would never come? To weep endlessly, always wishing that the Ministry had simply executed her?

No.

She couldn't do it. She  _wouldn't_ do it. Every cell in her body knew what the right thing to do was.

She didn't have to keep fighting any longer. She could finally rest, finally get the peaceful  _nothingness_  that Potter had denied her five years previously.

She could escape.

She'd tried already, the moment she saw that the Dark Lord was dead. She'd raised the wand to her head and began the words, started speaking the incantation that would grant her peace.

Sirius Black had stopped her then, that worthless animal who never deserved to share blood with a woman as brilliant as Bellatrix.

Sirius was not here to stop her now.

She'd tried again, in St Mungo's, when the Healers had stupidly left a bottle of Dreamless Sleep right next to her bed, close enough that she could grab it even with her chained down hands.

She still wasn't sure if it would have worked, but it had certainly been with a try.

She'd gotten it halfway to her mouth when one of her Auror guards had stopped her.

None of them were there to stop her now.

The guards had gone past her cell on their patrol within the last hour, and wouldn't be back for a while.

A cold, numb clarity settled over her, bringing a strange calm along with it.

This was it. There was no point in waiting any longer, no reason to hold out.

Everything had ended for her, and she would be damned if she would delay the inevitable.

_'Bellatrix held out for fourteen years. Are you really going to give up so easily? After all that she did for you, you're going to spit on her memory like that?'  
_

For a moment, her resolve wavered, fear twisting within her.

Then she gritted her teeth and set her jaw, nodding sharply.

_'Bellatrix isn't here. She promised me that she'd stay with me forever, but she isn't here. I don't owe her anything. Not anymore. Fuck off and let me do what I need to.'_

And for once, the voice fell silent.

It felt...oddly comfortable, to not have a part of her deriding her decision.

_'I chose to die for him in my first year at Hogwarts. The only reason I didn't end it later was that I could live for him instead. I can't do that anymore. Let me at least be at peace. Let me not have this constant war with myself.'_

Her tears dried up, a curious fluttering sensation making her insides squirm.

As quietly as she could, she stood up and gripped the bed, beginning to gently pull it across the floor, taking care to make no noise.

It would all be for nothing if she alerted the guards to what she was planning. If they found out...they'd stop her, and they'd find a way to make sure she'd never be able to try this again.

No, she only had the once chance.

_'Better make it count. No noise.'_

It was far easier than it should have been. The bed was light, and she pulled softly, moving it an inch at a time until it was directly beneath the showerhead.

It was good that the bed was light. That meant that it would be easy to kick it out from under her feet.

Her heart was racing, a bizarre mixture of excitement and terror thrumming in her.

This was it. Now, she'd finally be out of this hell her life had become.

She slipped out of her pants and sat back onto the bed.

_'Merlin, am I really doing this? Am I actually going to do this?'_

Images began to flash before her eyes, scenes of her life playing out in her last few moments.

Merlin, she couldn't believe that she had been happy once.

She held up her makeshift noose, eyeing it.

It looked like it would hold her. It didn't need to last for too long, just enough to choke the life from her.

That was all that she needed.

Tears began streaming down her face again, the realization that this was it beginning to burn at her.

_'I need to do it quickly, before I lose my nerve.'_

She would, she knew. If she left it too long, that little voice would come back, and it might be able to talk her out of it.

Her decision to finally do this had come in a flash, and she needed to act on it immediately.

_'Hell, I was a Gryffindor. That's what we do, we run into things.'_

As she was putting the noose over her head and preparing to stand on the bed, something caught her eye.

It had been hidden by her bed, something the cell's previous occupant had scratched into the wall.

She couldn't read what it said in the dim light, but even from so far away she could make out that it was actual words.

 _'Go see what it says,'_ the voice whispered.  _'It'll only take a minute, and then you can do whatever you need.'_

Feeling as if she was in a trance, Ginny rose and stalked across the room.

When she saw what had been scratched into the stone, her heart skipped a beat, the scars on her leg beginning to tingle.

 _'She said she'd be with you forever,'_ the voice whispered, more insistently than it ever had before.  _'And she is. She lives on in you. If you kill yourself, you're killing her too. You can't do that. You can't let her dreams die. You can't let his vision die. She's with you right here. It's a sign. You can't do it. If you die, you're giving up. If you stay alive, maybe someday you'll at least be able to get revenge.'_

Ginny dropped into the floor, a shocked laugh escaping her. Shaking, she lifted her hand and stroked the writing on the wall.

The tears pouring down her face made her vision blurry, that name in the wall dancing before her eyes.

Two words had been scratched into it, carved somehow into the stone in much the same way as they were carved into Ginny's flesh.

Just two words, just one name.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Weeping, her whole body shaking with her sorrow, Ginny threw back her head and began to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Enormous thanks go to my beta reader, Moomoogoat. Without his help, this story would very possibly not have been finished, and would certainly not be as readable.
> 
> Thanks, as well, go to every one of you who read this story, particularly to those who commented and reviewed. I always try to respond to reviews, but even if I didn't, know that it was much appreciated.
> 
> And lastly, to those who are unhappy with the ending: this story was marked as a tragedy from the very beginning. It's Ginny's tragedy, and I couldn't have written it any differently.
> 
> Thanks again, and see you all.


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